


fizzle out

by kawaiidonut



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Deaf Character, M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2020-11-10 14:18:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20853161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kawaiidonut/pseuds/kawaiidonut
Summary: aoba and clear are both struggling students, but in very different ways.plot loosely based off the manga "hidamari ga kikoeru"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i cannot believe that i, pancake, am writing kuriao in 2019. cannot believe it. but i have been showing dmmd to my bf and it has rekindled all KINDS of feelings! i couldn't help myself.
> 
> the story of this is kind of based off the manga "hidamari ga kikoeru" which is a fantastic manga that you should definitely read. it's super cute. this fic isn't gonna follow the plot exactly bc i don't think that would work for these characters but i mean... at least before the events of the drama cd, clear is hard of hearing. also i just think kouhei kind of looks like him so my mind just kind of created the association on its own
> 
> this first chapter is super short bc i am in bed with a fever rn but i was pretty excited to post this so i couldn't wait. i can't promise super speedy updates bc i am in my last year of university and i'm pretty busy but i mean... i found the time to write this, didn't i? i'm sure it will be fine.
> 
> i'm back baby

The sun was setting, casting a hazy orange glow on the pale man sitting on the hill. Aoba could see him, reclining with his books in front of him, focused on the sunset rather than his notes. He vaguely recognized him, knowing him as a strange character from a few of his classes who always sat in the front row. He never appeared to be on his phone, and Aoba had never spied him scrolling around on his jellyfish-sticker-covered laptop, either. A diligent student. Aoba was not the same, evidently; he spent so much time distracted with watching his classmates from afar that he ended up missing the point of the lecture most of the time.

Aoba noticed that the man had a container next to him with some orange slices… His stomach grumbled, providing a reminder that he hadn't eaten lunch that day. Or breakfast, now that he thought about it. He was running so late that he hadn't had time to grab something on his way out the door, and his granny had been out working, so she couldn't pack him a lunch. Not that Aoba would have preferred that; he was a grown man, kind of. He didn't need his granny making lunches for him!

Oh, now the man was pulling out another container from his bag – it looked like some kind of meat. Aoba couldn’t help but fantasize about inhaling all that food as quickly as he could. If he had even just two dollars, he could have gone and bought something...

Was it creepy to sit ten metres behind someone on a hill and watch them eat? Perhaps. But Aoba had been sitting here first, killing time before his interview for yet another part-time job. The last one he had gotten fired from was a junk shop, of all places, where his only responsibilities were answering the phone and doing the occasional delivery. Still, that had proved to be too demanding; it was pretty far out of the way, and Aoba had never been able to make it to work on time. The sweet old man running the shop seemed full of regret when he told Aoba he would be replacing him.

It was nice to submerge himself in whatever pseudo-naturalistic environment he could find in this city before he had to slip into kiss-ass mode. This would supposedly help him calm down, but Aoba thought all of that was nonsense. Why would sitting around a couple of trees do anything to quell his anxiety? Maybe if he had a real forest to sit in for a few hours he would see an improvement, but in his current predicament, it was futile.

Checking his watch, he sighed as the dread set in -- it was time to go. He forced his aching bones to stand up. As he did so, however, one of his legs gave out, sending him tumbling down the hill. 

"L-Look out!" Aoba cried, unable to stop himself from rolling like a log. The stranger flinched slightly and looked around, bewildered, but it was too late. Aoba braced himself for the impact.

"Oof!” 

Aoba opened his eyes, looking down at the shocked face beneath him. Up close like this, Aoba could see that his irises were pink. How strange.

Aoba mumbled an apology, rolling over so he was no longer crushing the man’s sternum with his elbow. He then noticed the pile of orange slices scattered about the surrounding grass. It was bad enough he had disturbed this poor man’s peace; he didn’t need to ruin his snack, too!

The man looked at him for a moment, then reached for his container of meat. He held it out to Aoba.

“Y-You’re... giving it to me?”

The man remained silent, but continued to hold it out.

“Even though I just crashed into you?”

The man nodded, nudging the container out further to emphasize his intention.

“O-Okay… Thank you.” 

He took a piece of meat and bit into it, acutely aware of the man watching him. It was coated in a glaze, and the texture was much more tender than Aoba had expected it to be. The relief of finally having food in his mouth after such a long day was incredible.

“This is really good! You have no idea how hungry I’ve been today.”

The man smiled and set the container down in front of Aoba.

“You…can have the rest,” he said in a voice so soft that Aoba had hardly heard him.

“What was that?”

The man looked down, focusing on a particular orange slice on the ground. He mumbled something again, but Aoba couldn’t hear him. He then stood up and briskly walked away.

It was only once Aoba had scarfed down all the meat that he realized he hadn’t learned the man’s name.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aoba gives Clear his container back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not forget about this!! I have been busy with school assignments this month but I found the time to write this chapter. Aoba's lecture experience in this chapter is 100% based on one class that I have.

The job interview hadn’t gone well. Aoba had been so distracted by the food he had been given that he showed up fifteen minutes late, which was understandable; if you get so distracted by a few chunks of meat that you end up late to an interview, maybe you’re not the right candidate for the job. An interview was the time to show your absolute best behaviour, and Aoba hadn’t done that. He knew he didn’t deserve the job.

Staring at the handful of coins in his palm and realizing it was all he had to live off for the next two weeks, though, made it harder for him to accept.

As he stood frowning in front of the vending machine trying to find something in his meagre budget, he heard someone call his name.

“Yo! Aoba!” It sounded like Koujaku. Aoba turned around to confirm that, yes, it was in fact Koujaku, his long-time friend.

“Hey.” Aoba couldn’t muster up any more enthusiasm than that. His grumbling stomach was putting him in a bad mood.

“Do you…” Koujaku hesitated. “Do you want some more change?”

“No,” Aoba grumbled, petulant, but accepted the coins once Koujaku had procured them.

“I take it your interview didn’t work out?”

Aoba frowned again. “No. I got distracted and I didn’t get there on time.”

“Distracted by what?”

Aoba turned away from the vending machine, having chosen a bag of chips. A puff of white hair caught his eye, and he recognized him as the man he had crashed into.

“Uh, him, actually,” Aoba mumbled, pointing discreetly at him.

“Oh, Clear? Yeah, he’s kind of weird.”

“’Weird’ how?”

“Well, maybe weird is the wrong word…” Koujaku chuckled sheepishly. “He’s kind of reclusive. I think he’s deaf, though, so maybe he’s just nervous around people.”

“He’s deaf?” Aoba didn’t think he had seemed like he had any trouble hearing him. If anything, Aoba was the one who had trouble hearing because he had spoken so quietly.

“Yeah. Did you not know that? He always sits in the front row in class because he has to lip read.”

“Oh, I’ve… never noticed.”

“So what happened with him yesterday?”

“I, uh… I tripped and rolled down the hill and landed on him. So he gave me some meat.”

Koujaku blinked. “Is that… really what happened?”

“Yeah. No, I know it sounds weird, but that’s what happened. There’s no other way to put it.”

“Oh. Well, I mean… At least you got lunch out of it, right?”

Aoba chuckled. “Yeah, I guess.”

It was time to go to class. Aoba and Koujaku’s classes were in different rooms, but in the same direction, so they walked part of the way together. Right before they were about to separate, though, something caught Aoba’s eye. It was a poster advertising a job as a note-taker.

“Oh, maybe I should apply,” Aoba muttered to himself, excited at even the smallest prospect of employment.

“I think it’s a volunteer position,” Koujaku cut in before Aoba could let his imagination run too wild.

“Oh.” Aoba’s spirits fell immediately.

“B-But maybe it’s worth it, anyway!” Koujaku backpedalled, understanding that he had been discouraging. “The experience would look good on your resume. It’ll show employers that you have a good work ethic if you do something like that for free.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Aoba peered at the poster more closely. “Oh, wait, hold on.”

“What?”

“Clear posted this ad.”

“Oh.” Koujaku paused. “Well, maybe he can pay you in meat, then.”

“Ha, ha,” Aoba laughed sardonically. “Maybe I should offer to help him, anyway. At least to pay him back for the food. And as an apology for knocking him over, I guess.”

Aoba took Clear’s contact information from the poster – feeling kind of weird about it – and said goodbye to Koujaku. He couldn’t remember which class Clear was in with him, but he decided that if he saw him in person that day, then he would approach him and ask him about note-taking. Surely that would be less embarrassing than texting Clear out of the blue the day after tumbling down the hill towards him… Besides, Aoba needed to return Clear’s container. He had been carrying it in his backpack all day and he wanted to get rid of it.

Peeking his head into the classroom, Aoba saw that Clear was in the front row. He would have to do this now. He hadn’t really prepared himself for doing this _now!_ What was the best course of action? Was it better to approach him after class? Or should he sit down next to him? Aoba realized he was partially blocking the doorway with his deliberating, so he took a deep breath and entered the room, ducking his head as he walked all the way to the back of the room, feeling like a coward all the while. He would approach Clear after class, for sure.

Aoba fought to keep his eyes open as the geriatric man at the front of the room drivelled on about the same topic for over an hour. It was unfortunately common for professors to get caught in a single tangent and waste the class time talking about something unimportant. What a relief to see the hands on the old manual clock on the wall tick to twenty-past two! Aoba started packing up his things while the professor kept talking. And kept talking. And… kept talking? The minute hand reached dangerously close to two-thirty and the professor hadn’t even started winding down yet. Aoba couldn’t stop his leg from jiggling impatiently under the desk. He could see Clear waiting patiently with his laptop still open on the table in front of him. What a good noodle.

The professor held them back so long that Aoba had to sprint to his next class, leaving no time to talk to Clear. It would have to wait. Aoba hoped nobody else volunteered to take notes for him in the meantime.

Later, as Aoba was meandering home – having no change to take the bus and no way of paying the fee to replace his missing bus pass – he passed by the same hill from the day before. Out of curiosity, he ventured past the fence and scoped out the area. He saw a now-familiar green scarf and felt his heart beat rise to his throat. Now was his chance!

Much, much, _much_ more carefully than the day before, Aoba stepped down the hill. He tried to think of the best way to approach Clear without feeling like he was sneaking up on him. While hesitating, he caught his foot in a tangle of weeds in the grass and tumbled down – thankfully a few feet from Clear this time. Still, he caught Clear’s attention. Crisis… averted?

“Um, hi,” he said, situating himself upright on the grass next to Clear. He dug in his bag for a moment, pulling out the container. “I have your container from yesterday. I washed it, too.”

Clear took it from him gingerly. “Thank you very much. You didn’t need to wash it.” He tucked it away in his backpack. “Are you okay? That looked like it hurt.”

Aoba felt his cheeks flare with heat. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just extra clumsy lately, I guess.”

Clear smiled. “It is a hill, after all. Perhaps I should stop sitting here if you’re going to keep seeking me out.”

Aoba wasn’t going to dignify that with a response. “I saw your poster looking for a note-taker earlier today. Did you find anyone?”

“No, I haven’t found anyone yet.”

“Well, I can help you, if you want. I can give you notes for the class we have together.”

“I believe we have three classes together this semester. Would you be willing to help me with all of them?”

“Y-Yeah, sure!” That tripped Aoba up a bit, making him feel guilty for being so unobservant and not realizing he had so many classes with Clear. He was surprised Clear had even noticed Aoba in his classes, though; Aoba always sat in the back of the room.

“In exchange,” Clear continued, not seeming offended by Aoba’s indiscretion, “I can continue to bring lunch for you. I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with Koujaku-san the other day about your predicament.”

“You couldn’t help but overhear? Me and Koujaku sit all the way in the back of the class!” Aoba said in disbelief, only realizing after he said it that it was totally rude.

Clear smiled again. “I only heard your half of the conversation. While it’s true that I am quite hard of hearing, I’ve never had an issue hearing your voice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Aoba asked, feeling slighted. The irony of raising his voice didn’t occur to him as he added, “I’m not that loud!”

Clear chuckled. “I’m not sure why. Your voice is clearer to me than anyone else’s. I could pick it out of a crowd.”

Aoba frowned. “Well, whatever. If you wanna bring me lunch in exchange for my notes, that’s fine.”

“There is only one other stipulation.”

“What’s that?”

“You’ll have to sit and eat lunch with me here.” He looked at Aoba with teasing eyes. “And you’re not allowed to fall down the hill again.”

Aoba grumbled, but ultimately acquiesced.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aoba experiences some small comforts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm taking 6 courses this semester so i'm super swamped but it was therapeutic to write this tonight. it's nice to write something that isn't an essay for once!!

Not having to worry about buying lunch took a huge load off Aoba’s ever-growing list of worries. Having the responsibility of taking notes for the man providing lunch for him, however, was a pretty big stressor. Aoba saw lectures as more of an opportunity to zone out guilt-free for an hour or so, rather than as something worth listening to. Perhaps that’s why his grades were so mediocre. Regardless, Clear’s presence in the front of the classroom was an ever-present reminder of Aoba’s duty. He wouldn’t let Clear down. He wouldn’t let himself doze off. Clear was relying on him to pay attention.

Aoba woke up twenty minutes later with nothing written in his notebook. Oops. Aoba doodled a little picture of himself in the blank space with a speech bubble saying _“Sorry… Fell asleep.”_ Clear had a sense of humour, right?

Later, at lunch, Aoba sat sheepishly as he presented his notes to Clear, nervous about his minor indiscretion. Clear looked puzzled as he shuffled through the stack of loose-leaf papers in his hands. 

“Aoba-san, I appreciate that you want to help me, but…” He paused. “You need to listen to the professor during the lecture.”

“I did!” He cried, although he knew it was a lie.

“It’s okay. I can get the gist of the lecture from the rest of the notes.” He reached for his yellow backpack and dug around in it for a moment, producing a sectioned container. “Here you go.”

Aoba wondered why Clear wasn’t angrier with him – more so, he wondered why Clear was still willing to give him lunch in exchange for the incomplete notes. Opening the container, he found a pasta salad and some sliced cherry tomatoes on the side. The smell was not overpowering, but it made him salivate immediately; he had not eaten dinner the night before, and he hadn’t had time to grab a snack on his way out the door that morning. His stomach grumbled ravenously, but he didn’t want to seem desperate by scarfing down the contents of the container at maximum speed. Exercising great restraint, he stabbed his fork into a single half-tomato and two spiral noodles. He counted out an appropriate number of seconds before taking another bite.

Clear was just sitting there with his chin in his palm, watching Aoba eat with a slight smile on his face. Was this a fetish thing? Was Clear a feeder? What a freak.

Aoba swallowed the food in his mouth before speaking. “I really am sorry that I didn’t take good notes for you. You had this food ready before you saw my notes, which isn’t fair to you, because you didn’t know my notes would be so shitty. You don’t have to bring food for me next time. That way, we’ll be even.”

Clear’s eyes widened, and he shook his head a second later. “No, it’s okay! You don’t need to make it up to me. I’m not mad. Even if the notes next time are bad, too, I’ll still bring you food.”

“What?” Aoba blurted. “Why?” He knew it was rude to ask so bluntly; Clear was still practically a stranger, so he should choose his words more carefully to avoid making a bad impression. Still, he was genuinely curious, and that got the best of him. Why would Clear be willing to bring Aoba food even if his notes sucked?

Aoba pulled himself out of his thoughts and looked at Clear again, noticing that he was running his fingers on the grass, face down towards his lap. His cheeks looked pink.

“It’s really no trouble,” Clear mumbled. “My mom is a really good cook, and she always makes a lot of extra food.” He paused for a moment. “I don’t like the thought of you going hungry.”

“Oh, your mom makes this food?” No wonder it was so good. A mother’s love could improve any recipe!

“I usually cook with her. She’s busy with her job most of the time, so when we get a chance to cook together, it’s a lot of fun.” He smiled faintly as he spoke about his mother. It was sweet; it made Aoba wish he had a relationship with his mother. He supposed a grandmother was close enough.

Clear hadn’t really answered Aoba’s question, had he? He had just dismissed it and changed the subject. Aoba was still wondering why Clear was so adamant on feeding him, but he didn’t have time to dwell on the subject – he had to go to class. Or, wait… was it a job interview he had to get to? He couldn’t remember, but he’d check his phone on the way.

“I’ll see you later,” Aoba said, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “I have to go. Next time I see you, I’ll have some real notes for you.”

Clear smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.”

* * *

It turned out that it _was_ a job interview Aoba had…at a run-down flower shop that also sold knickknacks (the owner said business was tough, so they had to expand). Aoba was a bit perplexed at the concept, but he was willing to give it his best shot. The interview had gone about as well as it could have, but the owner told Aoba to expect a call within the next few days. Aoba supposed he was now an employee of a kitschy hybrid store. First the junk shop, now this. Why was it only weird places that hired him?

Aoba got home, finally, after what felt like the longest day he’d had in a while. He let his backpack slide off his back until it hit the ground with a loud thump. No word from his granny… Aoba had been expecting at least a grunt from her in response to him treating his belongings so carelessly. She must have been out somewhere. At least _she_ had a social life!

He entered the dim kitchen, noticing that his granny had left the stove light on for him. He also noticed a note on the kitchen counter.

_There is some food in the fridge. Heat it up in the oven, NOT the microwave!_

The note included some instructions on what temperature to set the oven at. Aoba smiled at his granny’s small handwriting, noting that she underscored the word “NOT” three times. She was always a stickler about treating her leftovers with respect; just because the food was a day old didn’t mean she hadn’t put work into making it!

As he waited for the oven to preheat, Aoba checked his phone. He had a message from Koujaku.

_Yo, Aoba. I’m having a small get-together tomorrow night. Well technically Noiz is but whatever I’m the one buying the alcohol._

Aoba chuckled at Koujaku’s refusal to use a comma. The threat of a social function made Aoba wary but the promise of alcohol made him more interested in attending. Alcohol was a bit outside of Aoba’s budget, and it had been a while since he had drank. Perhaps it would be fun to forget about his troubles for a night—as long as Koujaku was footing the bill.

_Alright,_ Aoba texted back. _I’m in. What time?_

He leaned back against the counter, setting his phone face-up beside him as he waited for a response. The oven beeped so he slid the little glass dish of stew in, making sure to set the timer.

Aoba returned to his spot against the counter, relishing in the peaceful coziness of the kitchen. It was nice to relax, for once, in a quiet room by himself, only lit by the small yellow light across the room from him. In the windows, the outside world looked black; all he could see was the yellowed reflection of the kitchen, and the reflection of his own tired face.

The oven beeped again, longer this time, which meant that the stew was ready. He shut the heat off and went to get a bowl, but hesitated and shut the cupboard. It was pretty late, but it wouldn't hurt to check... He turned and timidly paced up the stairs, careful not to make too much noise. He peeked down the dark hallway and saw a thin strip of light under the door to his brother’s bedroom – he was awake.

Knocking gently with the back of his hand, Aoba softly called, “Sei?”

“…Yeah?” Came a gentle voice after a moment’s pause.

“Are you hungry?”

“…Do you have food?”

“Granny left some stew. Do you want some?”

“…Okay.”

Aoba headed back down to the kitchen, content with their conversation through the door. He didn’t want to open it unless he had to.

After filling two bowls equally with stew, he filled two glasses with water and grabbed some spoons, then set everything on a tray to carry upstairs. He felt a little bit like a nurse; Granny was usually the one to take care of Sei like this, but Aoba supposed it was his turn for a change.

Sei’s waking hours and Aoba’s hours at home overlapped so rarely that it felt strange to enter Sei’s room. Aoba balanced the tray on one hand as he opened the door. He braced himself, but he knew he would be just as shocked regardless.

Sei looked up from his book. Aoba tried as hard as he could to keep his expression neutral and not stare too much at his emaciated brother. Maybe Aoba should have given Sei more than half of the stew…

Sei cocked an eyebrow. “You’re eating with me?”

Aoba wondered if Sei would rather be left alone. “Well, yeah, I mean… I don’t get to see you very often.”

Sei smiled. Maybe he missed Aoba, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> clear has a mom bc kouhei in hidamari ga kikoeru has a mom and this is...loosely based off of that story. emphasis on 'loosely' lol


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aoba goes to Noiz's party!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am straying heavily from my source material. i will again reiterate that this is LOOSELY based on hidamari ga kikoeru lmao

Aoba felt guilty abandoning his family tonight, but Granny had insisted that Aoba needed a night out away from the stresses of his daily life. He wished Sei could have come along. He briefly imagined what it would be like to have a twin brother who could do things like this with him; maybe they would have been popular in high school. Twins were usually gimmicky enough that people wanted to hang out with them. Instead, it had just been Aoba and his mysterious ghost brother. Some kids had never really believed that Sei existed.

Aoba tried to snuff out that train of thought as he stood at the door of Noiz’s apartment building, texting him to let him know he had arrived. It would be uncouth to arrive at a party harbouring sad feelings.

Noiz came downstairs to let Aoba in and showed him to his apartment. Koujaku was right – it _was_ a small get-together. There were maybe fifteen people crammed into Noiz’s tiny living room, and most of them were on the floor around the coffee table trying to play a card game. The only two who weren’t involved were Koujaku and Noiz, who were on their way to greet Aoba.

“Aobaaaaaaa!” Koujaku called with a slight slur in his voice, running up to catch him in an aggressive, stumbling hug. It was only nine-thirty…

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Noiz deadpanned.

Aoba glanced around the cramped room. “It sure is humble.”

Noiz snorted. “Do you want a drink? Koujaku brought a lot of stuff.”

“I’ll make it for you!” Koujaku chirped, running into the kitchen (which was about three feet away from the entrance to the apartment where Aoba stood).

While he waited for Koujaku to return, Aoba didn’t know what to say to Noiz. They were friends, sure, but he only had one class with him this semester, and it was one that he frequently skipped; he hadn’t seen him in a while. Asking someone how their classes were going was a lame thing to do at a party; besides, Aoba knew Noiz better than to ask him something like that. He racked his brain for something, anything to bring up, but he didn’t want to reveal to Noiz that he had no idea what he had been up to lately.

“I don’t know how I’m gonna fit everyone else in here,” Noiz said, filling the silence. Aoba was grateful to give his overthinking brain a rest.

“How many other people are coming?”

Noiz hummed in thought. “Five or six, maybe. Although I doubt they’ll all show up."

Aoba looked around again. “Yeah, I don’t even know if there’s room enough for me to sit down,” he said with a chuckle, trying not to insult Noiz’s apartment too much.

Koujaku finally returned with a red cup for Aoba. He grinned, waiting for Aoba to take a sip – when Aoba did, he almost choked on it.

“What the fuck is in this?”

“Rum. And, uh, a bit of Coke. I actually think I may have put some vodka in there too, sorry…” His grinned turned sheepish. “If it's too much, I can take that one instead and make you another.”

“No, no, no, I’ll drink it,” Aoba insisted; seeing how drunk Koujaku already was, he decided to be honourable and sacrifice his own dignity. “It’s not so bad. I’ve drank a lot worse.”

He carefully carried the cup as he maneuvered on his tiptoes to the corner of the living room. He had to step over quite a few people to get there, but he wanted to sit in a spot that was somewhat out of sight. He settled in, content to stay in the corner for the duration of the party. If someone wanted to talk to him, they could, but at least he had a semblance of security until he felt drunk enough to socialize. He sipped on his drink, finishing it more quickly than he intended.

The thing about not being able to afford to eat regular meals every day was that it meant Aoba usually had an empty stomach in the evenings. And that cup contained about three shots total, and Aoba was not a large man, and he was eager to drink after going so long without it…

It was after he had finished his second Koujocktail that he realized he may have made a mistake. The room was barely-perceptibly spinning, but if he switched to water for a while, he would be fine. Maybe Noiz had some chips or something.

Aoba vaguely registered the door opening, and he heard Koujaku greet someone.

“Ah, your apartment is so cute, Noiz-san!”

Noiz-san?

Oh, no… No! It couldn’t be!

“And Aoba-san is here, too! What a nice surprise.”

Hearing the sweet dulcet tones of a somewhat familiar voice, Aoba looked up, only to find himself meeting the eyes of his generous benefactor. He returned Clear’s smile although he felt like he had no control over his facial muscles.

“Hi, Clear,” he said, somewhat stiffly. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

Aoba did _not_ want Clear seeing him in this state; he had not known Clear long enough that his drunken foolishness would be offset by any prior experience.

Clear crouched on the floor beside Aoba, still smiling at him. Why did he suddenly look so cute? Had Aoba noticed how cute he was before?

“Do you mind if I sit beside you, Aoba-san?"

“N-No, not at all,” Aoba said, feeling a bit flustered at how warmly Clear was looking into his eyes.

Aoba wanted to slap his hands onto his cheeks to wake himself up. _You’re drunk, dummy! Of course you think he’s cute!_

Koujaku extended his arm towards Clear, thrusting a red cup at him. Aoba considered warning Clear about its contents, but he figured Clear could make his own decisions. 

Clear took a sip, grimaced for a split second, then thanked Koujaku for the drink. Aoba noticed that Clear didn’t set it down, though. In fact, he kept drinking it, despite it tasting like swill. He set the cup down with a light tap on the table, which indicated that it was empty.

“You drank that fast,” Aoba noted.

Clear looked sheepish. “I get kind of nervous at things like this, so I thought it would help.”

That made sense. Parties are anxiety-inducing enough on their own… Aoba couldn’t imagine how much scarier it would be to not be able to hear clearly.

“Don’t feel bad,” Aoba said reassuringly. “I’ve already drank two of Koujaku’s nasty drinks.”

“Oh, no!” Clear pouted. “I was hoping you would be willing to act as my ears, in case someone says something and I can’t hear them. But if you’re too drunk, you might get distracted.”

Aoba pouted right back, feeling somewhat offended that Clear only sat beside him so he could rely on him like that. “Well, maybe you’ll just have to put up with _me_ all night, then.”

Koujaku offered Aoba and Clear another drink each; they both took it willingly. Aoba sipped on the vile swamp water for a few minutes in silence, looking around the room, realizing he only vaguely recognized a few of the other guests. He knew Mizuki, of course, and Koujaku and Noiz. But most of the other people were just faces rather than names.

Aoba reached the bottom of his drink again; the more he drank, the more tolerable it was to choke it down, it seemed. He hoped he was able to keep it together. If Koujaku handed him another drink, he would refuse. He didn’t want to do lose control and do something embarrassing in front of his peers. 

“Now that almost everyone is here,” Noiz called out to the group, “I promised Koujaku we could play Never Have I Ever.” He put on an affected voice when he said the name of the game. Koujaku clapped his hands in excitement.

Everyone held up ten fingers and waited patiently as Koujaku thought of something to say. Aoba decided to keep an eye on Clear. He was curious what this game would reveal about him.

“Never have I ever…had sex in public,” Koujaku said, starting the game out strong. One girl put her finger down, giggling and making a show of it. Another girl teased her about it for a moment.

“Ok, my turn,” Noiz decided. “Never have I ever sent someone a dick pic.” He paused. “Or the female equivalent.”

There were several groans as almost everyone put a finger down, Noiz included. Clearly, Noiz was more of a chaotic trickster type who didn’t care whether or not he won. It was a strategy that Aoba could respect.

Aoba peeked out of the corner of his eye to find that Clear had all ten fingers up. What a square.

The next few people in the circle gave pretty esoteric scenarios that only their friends had done: “never have I ever lost my left shoe trying to get away from a mall cop” was one that stood out. Targeted sabotage was an interesting play style.

It was all fun and jests until one guy in a tank top said, “Never have I ever taken it in the ass.”

Aoba froze. As subtly as he could, he tucked his left thumb into his palm. He noticed Koujaku and Noiz had both also put a finger down. Gross. Aoba didn’t want to think about that. Instead, he peeked over at Clear, who still had all ten fingers up.

It was Aoba’s turn. He was so curious to find out something, anything about Clear that he took the Noiz route and threw himself under the bus. “Never have I ever had sex with someone of the same gender.”

Aoba put his own finger down; again, so did Noiz, and Koujaku, and Mizuki, and a few of the strangers, and…

Aoba peeked over. Clear had nine fingers up.  
Aoba couldn’t help but look over at him in astonishment. “Really?” he asked, surprised at his own boldness.

“Y-Yes, so what? You have, too, right?”

“But you didn’t put your finger down when that guy asked about taking it in the ass.” Aoba couldn’t believe his gall, but he decided to take full advantage of it.

Clear pursed his lips, looking around the room. “I-I know.”

So he was a top.

“Interesting.” Aoba didn’t mean to say it out loud. He hoped his drunk obnoxiousness came across as charming rather than cringey.

“I-I guess that makes it my turn,” Clear mumbled. He seemed nervous, which struck Aoba as odd. Clear blended in so well that Aoba almost forgot that he was hearing impaired; he hadn’t yet had to ask Aoba for help. Perhaps he was just good at pretending?

“Um,” Clear continued, “Never have I ever…done hard drugs?”

Aoba froze for the second time. He couldn’t get away with this one – Clear was looking right at him! He scowled as he put his finger down, grumbling as Clear’s eyes widened in shock.

“I-It was one time,” he mumbled. “Someone offered it to me, so I took it. It’s not like I can afford cocaine on the regular. Why not take the opportunity?”

Was Aoba oversharing? Was he embarrassing himself in front of his peers? Would they think less of him? Would _Clear_ think less of him? The answer to these questions was probably affirmative. Still, it was fun to not care what people thought, even if he knew the feeling was temporary. After struggling through so many job interviews where he had to maintain a degree of pseudo-professionalism, it was refreshing to admit that he had done some unprofessional things.

“Oh, shit,” Noiz said, looking at his phone. “We have some more visitors. Hold on.”

He ran out the door, then returned a minute later. Four new people stood in the doorway, looking around the already-cramped room expectantly.

“We’re gonna have to really squeeze in,” Noiz instructed. “Some people are gonna have to sit on other people’s laps.”

The girls who were there with their boyfriends giggled like they were doing something scandalous as they scooted to sit between their boyfriends’ legs. Aoba, three full extra-extra-extra-strong drinks in, turned to Clear.

“I can sit on you,” he said, feeling the numbness of his tongue as he tried to pronounce the words. Clear seemed to hear him just fine, though; his cheeks went a bit pink as he gaped at Aoba wordlessly. He didn’t say no, so Aoba moved over and settled right in, nestling his butt right back against the juncture of Clear’s legs. Maybe he shouldn’t have wiggled so much—he heard Clear make a weird sound. After a moment, though, Clear gingerly circled his arms around Aoba’s waist, pulling him back against his chest.

Huh. Clear’s arms felt nice around him like that.

They played another stupid game that Aoba barely participated in because he was a little preoccupied. He was wearing Clear like a backpack and he couldn’t stop focusing on the feeling of Clear’s body against his own. He wanted to wiggle his hips back again and see what would happen. Would Clear get aroused? Was he thinking that kind of thing about Aoba right now?

Oh, this wasn’t good. Aoba needed to get out of there! He couldn’t develop an interest in Clear; he had too many things on his plate already. He needed to focus on helping his family and making it through school so he could get a better job to support them!

Aoba stood up and started to meander towards the door, struggling to avoid stepping on anyone. “U-Uh, thanks for having me over, Noiz, but I should head out.”

“Is everything okay?” Noiz asked. He probably thought something was wrong at home, which made Aoba feel guilty.

“No, everything’s fine! I just, uh, have to get up early in the morning.”

“Oh, okay. Well, thanks for coming. Hope you had fun.”

Aoba said some more goodbyes as he pulled his shoes on and stumbled out of the building. He didn’t have enough money to call a cab, and the buses weren’t running this late. He had no choice but to walk. He went to check his phone to see if he could use a navigation app, but his phone was dead. Damn it.

He didn’t really know where he was going; his instincts told him that home was in the direction of the nearby park he could see from where he was. He followed a dirt path that led into the field, figuring that it would at least take him somewhere he was more familiar with. If he could just find his way to a bus terminal, he could sleep on the benches. He wasn't worried about sleeping in public. It’s not like he had anything of value on him to make him worth robbing.

“Aoba-san!” Clear called from a distance. 

Oh, no! Clear had followed him?

“Wait for me!”

Aoba did _not_ want to wait for Clear. If he waited for him, then Clear would try to walk Aoba home to make sure he was safe. Aoba had no problem with that, mostly, except that it would mean that Clear would have to see his house. His gross, unkempt house. His nasty house that he lived in with his granny and his dying brother. Aoba really didn’t want Clear to find out about all of that just yet.

Unfortunately, Clear caught up to him; Aoba silently cursed Clear’s stupid, sexy long legs.

“I don’t think you’ll be able to make it home by yourself, Aoba-san,” Clear said as he, too, stumbled down the pathway. “Let me walk you home.”

“I’m fine,” Aoba grumbled, drawing out the syllables.

Clear caught him by the waist and pulled him in towards him. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Aoba’s indignation settled as he looked into Clear’s warm eyes, full of concern. He felt the heat of Clear’s arms around him, the heat of Clear’s body pressed against his own. It was because he was drunk, right? He had drunk the equivalent of eight shots on an empty stomach, and those shots were making him horny for whoever was within proximity, and that happened to be Clear.

But Clear was drunk, too, wasn’t he? Was he feeling the same way as Aoba? To test his theory, Aoba leaned in closer. He could smell the alcohol on Clear’s breath, but he didn’t find it off-putting. He was curious if his lips would taste like alcohol, too. Clear didn’t back away.

His inebriation made him uncoordinated, unfortunately, so Aoba missed his target when he finally leaned in to kiss him; his lips landed on Clear’s chin, right on top of the two moles he had there. Aoba pretended that was what he had intended to do and trailed his lips down from his chin to the side of his neck, doing more licking than actual kissing. He could feel Clear’s quickening pulse under his tongue.

Clear pulled him off his neck, and Aoba was worried he had just embarrassed himself, but then Clear grabbed the back of Aoba’s head and brought their open mouths together. Aoba’s knees went weak; Clear held him close for support, but Clear’s knees went weak, too, so they ended up in the grass.

Aoba ended up on his back with Clear kneeling above him. He pulled Clear down and kissed him again—really, it was still just licking, but neither of them were bothered. There was a silent agreement between them that this was a frantic, secret thing; it didn’t matter if it was messy.

It couldn’t have been later than two o’clock, and it was a public park, so Aoba was vaguely concerned about someone seeing them. Still, he wrapped his legs around Clear’s hips and brought him closer. Clear followed his lead and thrust against Aoba’s aching hardness, letting Aoba feel his own.

Clear pulled back for a second and looked down at Aoba to make sure he was still okay.

“H-How…” Aoba cleared his throat and tried again. “How far from here did you say your house is?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i have a curse that prevents me from writing more than 4 chapters of a fic without making them kiss


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aoba has an interesting experience which jogs his...memory?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i spent soooooo long procrastinating this... but here it is. i haven't written a sex scene in a while but i hope it is ok!!

Aoba found himself on Clear’s big, soft, fluffy, clean bed, in his big, clean room -- everything about it was perfect. He hadn’t got a chance to look at the rest of Clear’s house because they were both sort of preoccupied, but Aoba knew that Clear’s home life was a million times better than his own. His house smelled like candles! It didn't have a weird thrift-store smell like Aoba's did. Clear's family must have had the luxury of enough free time to clean more frequently than once every two months. He was extra grateful that he had avoided showing Clear his shabby home now that he saw what Clear was used to. He felt vulnerable enough as it was.

Aoba's shame was temporarily brought to a halt when Clear started pulling his own shirt off. He tugged it over his head and Aoba’s breath caught in his throat. Clear was so...hot, for lack of a better word. Aoba knew he sounded like a thirteen-year-old girl gushing over her crush, but he couldn’t help it; Clear’s skin was so smooth, and his body was so lean and muscular… He couldn't muster up the effort to take his eyes off him. He could only hope that his staring wasn't making Clear uncomfortable.

Perhaps Aoba shouldn't have drank so much; then he wouldn't have ended up here. Still, he was kind of glad it had turned out like this; he couldn't deny that he wanted Clear. He trailed his fingers up Clear’s side, feeling the softness of his flesh and pressing against the firmness of the muscle underneath. He ghosted his fingers up to Clear’s face, rubbing his thumb over his right cheek. He felt the warmth of it for a moment, appreciating his pale, unflawed skin. In the darkness of the bedroom it looked impossibly smooth. He felt Clear's cheek shift under his hand as he smiled down at Aoba.

Clear reached up and placed his own hand over Aoba's, holding it gently against his face. His eyes looked serene as he held Aoba's gaze. It felt as if there was a secret understanding between them about the gesture, but Aoba was sure that wasn't the case. Clear's feelings for Aoba must have just been a bit stronger than Aoba had thought.

He pondered on that for a moment. Was it right to do this, knowing he likely wouldn't be able to allow it to continue? He was attracted to Clear, and he had an obvious interest in him, but he wasn't sure that he would have the time or the energy to pursue a relationship with him. If Clear felt as strongly towards Aoba as it seemed, then was it fair to give him false hope?

All conflicting thoughts fled from Aoba's mind as Clear started to unzip his own pants. Why worry about what might happen later? Aoba wanted to see some dick. The bulge that Clear's pants were struggling to contain seemed promising, anyway.

"Aoba-san, are you sure about this? You don't seem entirely present." Clear's hands stilled on his zipper as he looked down at Aoba with furrowed brows.

"I-I'm sure!" Aoba assured, although it sounded unassuring. He cleared his throat. "I'm fine. Just nervous, I guess." He swallowed the lingering tightness in his throat. "This is kind of intimidating."

"How so?"

Aoba frowned a bit. "I don't know…"

"We can stop. We don't have to do this if you feel intimidated. I don't want it to be a bad experience for you."

"No, I want to!"

Unsure of what kind of sex demon just took over him, Aoba pounced forward, knocking Clear on his back. Clear was taking too long to take his pants off. Aoba wanted to see dick and he wanted to see it now! He unfastened Clear's pants and tugged them down his hips, revealing the base of his cock straining against the fabric still holding it in place. Fascinated, Aoba tugged them further in one harsh movement and Clear's cock sprang free, gently smacking Aoba's chin. He hadn't realized how closely he had been leaning in.

"A-Aoba-san…"

Aoba looked up at Clear. He watched as Clear's fist rose to cover his mouth as Aoba dragged the full flatness of his tongue up the underside of his cock.

"It'sh sho big," Aoba slurred with his tongue still lolling out of his mouth. Perhaps he really had drank too much… He knew, he  _ knew  _ he was going to be embarrassed when he remembered this in the morning, but he wanted to put his all into something for once, damn it!

Clear leaned back on his elbows for support, watching Aoba with a feverish gaze. Aoba caught his eye and held it as he pushed the tight ring of his lips down the length of his shaft. Clear made a soft sound -- almost like a whimper; Aoba liked knowing that he had drawn a reaction as vulnerable as that from him. There was an element of nervousness between them, but Aoba didn't feel as much of a guard up as there could have been. He chalked it up to the alcohol.

Aoba pulled off, dabbing at his mouth with the back of his hand. He had an idea. "Do you, uh, have any lube?"

Clear blinked his eyes open. "What? Uh, yes, it's in the drawer." He pointed at the bedside table.

Aoba rolled over and opened the drawer, feeling around for some kind of bottle or tube.

"Got it!" He said, presenting the squeeze bottle. He flipped the cap, ready to get started, but Clear interrupted him.

"What are you doing?" Clear asked, still seeming like his mind was foggy.

"You'll see," Aoba said cryptically.

Aoba got on his elbows and knees again, but before he resumed his task, he tugged his own pants and underwear down to his knees. It made sense to get this out of the way as soon as possible. As he sucked Clear back into his mouth, he lubed up his fingers and gently prodded at his own hole.

"A-Aoba-san, I can do that for you," Clear urged, gently tugging on Aoba's hair. Aoba gurgled in disagreement around the cock in his mouth.

Aoba inhaled sharply through his nose when he pushed the first finger in as far as he could. It occurred to him that he was hunched over so that he could reach his ass; his posture couldn't have been very visually pleasing. He tried to arch his back more. Not that he thought Clear would critique him like that, but he felt some sense of obligation to put on a show for him. He felt stupid for it, but he wanted to impress him.

Now with two fingers inside himself, Aoba's jaw was getting sore, so he let Clear slip out of his mouth again.

"Sorry, my jaw was getting tired," Aoba mumbled, cursing his lack of stamina.

"Don't apologize," Clear said, pulling Aoba closer and kissing him hotly, undoubtedly tasting his own cock on Aoba's tongue. Aoba respected that.

Clear gently placed his hand over the hand Aoba was fingering himself with. He hadn't yet taken his own fingers out yet, but he could tell where this was headed.

"Is it okay if I take over?" Clear asked, tugging on Aoba's wrist until his fingers were freed.

"If you insist…"

Clear lowered Aoba onto his back, then crept down the bed until he was level with Aoba's cock, which had yet to receive any attention. He took Aoba's pants, still bunched at his ankles, off and tossed them to the floor.

"Hey, wait, what are you doing?"

Clear placed a hand on each of Aoba's knees and drew them apart as wide as they could go. Aoba lay there, face burning, as Clear admired the sight.

"Aoba-san," Clear said in a low, gravelly tone. Aoba felt like a rabbit squirming under the watchful eye of its predator.

Clear peppered kisses along Aoba's inner thigh. Then, without much warning, he engulfed Aoba's cock in the warmth of his mouth. Aoba was caught so far off-guard that he hardly noticed the two fingers penetrating him. He brought his still-sleeved arm up to his mouth to muffle the moans involuntarily escaping from his throat -- he knew the rest of the house was vacant, but that did little to quell his embarrassment.

That being said, he doubted Clear would have mocked him for being so vocal; Clear's sounds of pleasure would have been more appropriate if their roles were reversed. Sure, Aoba took pleasure in knowing he was satisfying his partner, but the ecstasy Clear seemed to be experiencing was another thing entirely.

"Aoba-san… Your shirt…" Clear mumbled, mouth still half-full of cock. "Take it off, please…"

"W-What?"

"Please, let me see you," Clear begged, grabbing at the fabric.

Aoba scoffed, embarrassed at Clear's shameless show of desperation. Still, he tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor.

"Thank you," Clear said, trailing his free hand up Aoba's body to play with his chest. With his request fulfilled, he fully swallowed Aoba's cock once again. It was like Clear was starving for Aoba and he didn't know if he would get another chance to devour him.

"Y-You gotta stop," Aoba pleaded, not wishing to humiliate himself by coming prematurely. "I think I'm, uh, okay to…"

Clear pulled back. "Really? Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Aoba sat up. "I can go on top of you, if you want. You just did a lot, after all…"

"No, that isn't necessary, Aoba-san."

"Are you sure? I don't mind if--"

"I want to do it. Please, lay back and let me do it." Clear's tone suggested that Aoba not argue further.

Aoba looked into Clear's eyes, finding desperation in them. Did it mean that much to him? He didn't resist when Clear gently nudged him back.

Clear nuzzled his cheek against Aoba's, whispering in his ear. "I want you so much, Aoba-san, it feels like I'm going to fall apart." He paused. "I feel like I'm going to break."

Clear kissed him, then, but it felt different than it had before. Aoba felt a squeeze in his chest, as if there was something missing, something he had forgotten about. He had a flash of it in his mind for a split second, but the thought was gone before he could recognize it, leaving him with a strange, heavy feeling in his gut.

Clear pulled back, looking Aoba in the eye with an intensity that Aoba hadn't seen from anyone in a long time. He put his hands on Clear's face, feeling an urge to protect him, to prevent something -- but what? 

The strange feeling deepened when his thumb guided itself to the moles on Clear's chin. Aoba felt something run down the side of his face and seep into his hair. Why was he crying?

"Maybe this isn't right," Clear said, hesitating. He gently swiped the tears from Aoba's cheek. "You're drunk."

"S-So are you!" Aoba rebutted, feeling embarrassment creeping in.

Still, Clear made a good point; Aoba was drunk. That's what this all was about! Aoba had always been an emotional drunk, and he had drank more than usual on an empty stomach -- not to mention the buildup of stress from his personal life! All of his frustration from the past few months needed a way of releasing itself. That's why he felt so weird. He didn't need to read into it so much…he told himself, anyway.

"You're right, but…" Clear still seemed reluctant to continue. "I feel like you may regret it later. Maybe we should stop--"

“N-No, please, please,” Aoba begged, frantic, not wanting to miss this opportunity. “Please don’t be afraid to do this. I can take it. I want it. Please.” He felt so desperate to take Clear in. It made his skin feel like it wasn’t fitting him right. Something about Clear was so magnetic that the thought of not feeling him like this was some kind of loss.

The room was slightly too dark to know for sure, but Aoba thought he saw a pink hue rise to Clear's cheeks.

"A-As long as you're sure, Aoba-san."

"But first, um…" Aoba meekly gestured to Clear's pants, which were still on; they were just off enough for his cock to be out. "C-Can you take those off all the way? It's only fair."

Clear smiled, stifling a laugh at Aoba's shyness. "Yes, I can."

Once his remaining clothes were on the floor, and Aoba's bare legs were on either side of Clear's hips, pressing against his skin...it made Aoba feel reassured, like he wasn't the only one being vulnerable. He nudged the back of Clear's thigh with his foot, indicating that he wanted him to hurry up.

"I-I suppose I should...go in now," Clear mumbled, somewhat bashful. He slicked up his cock and positioned himself to enter. He looked up at Aoba, likely for confirmation, so Aoba smiled. Clear smiled back.

Clear started to push in, and Aoba grabbed onto him reflexively, holding him tightly. Slowly, Clear inched his way in until he had gone as far as he could go; he stopped there and held still, waiting for a response from Aoba.

Aoba could feel Clear's unsteady breath against his ear. He focused on the sound as he waited for the discomfort to subside. Gradually, he opened up to the presence of Clear inside of him; he started to slightly swirl his hips around him, enjoying the hot thickness of his cock. He realized, belatedly, that he really was feeling Clear in his entirety; they had forgot to use a condom. Oh, well.

Clear seemed to have a similar realization once the fog in his head dissipated. 

"A-Aoba-san, oh, I was so distracted, I forgot--"

"It's okay."

"B-But--"

"Don't worry about it. It's already in." This was not Aoba's most responsible moment.

However, Clear was just as guilty; he didn't require much convincing to continue. He pulled out partway and thrust back in, beginning at a slow pace. Aoba was grateful to see how gentle Clear was willing to be with him.

Aoba pulled Clear even closer, burying his face against his shoulder. He grazed his lips across his skin, pressing a few kisses up the side of his neck.

"You can go faster, if you want," he whispered, still hiding his face from Clear. He wasn't sure that he would have been able to say that with such confidence if he had been looking him in the eye.

Expecting Clear to hesitate and ask Aoba if he was sure, Aoba was surprised that Clear took the suggestion and pounded into him harder. He was so taken aback that he lost control of his voice and let out some shameful sounds; however, the lust he saw in Clear's eyes made him feel better.

Clear straightened up and held Aoba's hips tightly, letting himself give in to the desire to move with more urgency. Aoba couldn't hide his face against Clear's shoulder anymore, so he brought his hand up to his mouth to hide any weird expressions he might make. Clear gently grabbed his wrist and moved it away.

"Please don't hide yourself, Aoba-san. You're beautiful. I want to see your face."

"D-Don't...call me that…"

"I mean it," Clear insisted, stroking Aoba's cheek with his thumb. Aoba believed him.

Aoba didn't give Clear a response right away, but he also didn't cover his face again. He focused on Clear, watching the way his muscles tensed as he moved, and listening to the soft groans slipping past his lips. He watched Clear's face, noticing the way he fought to keep his eyes open despite the lust overtaking him.

"You are, too," Aoba murmured. He realized what he had said, and wished he had kept his thoughts to himself.

Clear met his gaze. "I am what?"

"B-Beautiful," Aoba clarified, feeling like he had said something stupid.

He didn't regret it anymore, though, once he saw how Clear's brows knit together as he smiled a big, genuine smile, eyes welling up slightly.

"Aoba-saaaan," he cried, drawing out the last syllable. Aoba smiled, too, and reached out to pull him close again.

After a moment, Clear sat up straighter again, this time pushing Aoba's legs back so his ankles were resting on Clear' shoulders. 

"W-What are you doing?!" Aoba asked, startled and somewhat embarrassed to be folded in half like this.

"I think this will be more enjoyable for you," Clear said as he picked up his pace, thrusting with more ferocity.

Aoba couldn't do much to stop the guttural moans as Clear drove into him much more deeply than before, hitting his prostate with more intensity. Clear released one of Aoba's legs from his shoulder so he could slip his hand between their bodies and fondle Aoba's cock as he thrusted into him.

"Is...it good?" Clear asked, barely able to get the words out.

"Y-Yes," Aoba choked out in response.

Aoba could feel his impending orgasm, so he pulled Clear as close as he could, despite the stretch he felt in his hamstring. He kissed Clear deeply, more tongue than anything, as he let himself sink into the feeling. He raked his nails down Clear's back as he came, rolling his hips against Clear's body. A split second later, Aoba felt Clear coming, too; he felt a pulsing warmth inside of himself as Clear's hips stuttered for a moment before finally becoming still.

"S-Sorry," Clear said, still trying to catch his breath. "I should have used a condom. I apologize for the mess."

Aoba chuckled. "I told you, don't worry about it."

Clear kissed Aoba's sweaty forehead and flopped over on the bed beside him. Aoba rolled over, too, and rested his head on Clear's chest. He tilted his head up so he could kiss Clear's chin, and then settled back against his chest. He heard Clear hum in contentment as he placed his arm over Aoba's waist.

The entire night had been...weird. Not in a bad way, really, but it had been more intense than Aoba had expected it to be. He didn't understand why he had felt so emotional -- or why he still found himself getting choked up now that it was over.

"I…" Aoba let himself trail off. He didn't know what it was that he wanted to say.

Clear gently shushed him. "You must be tired, Aoba-san. Please go to sleep."

Aoba tried to fight the sleepiness overtaking him; he wanted to talk to Clear more, to ask him something, but he didn't know what it was. He fell asleep before he could figure it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes this is a reincarnation fic. lmao


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rollercoaster of emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWO updates in one week!!!! woah!!!! lol clear and aoba have been living in my brain rent-free so this was pretty easy to write. enjoy!!

Aoba opened his eyes, suddenly awake. He inhaled deeply to stretch his ribcage, noticing the fresh scent of fabric softener rather than his usual somewhat-stale sheets. Right, he had stayed at Clear's last night. A pain in his jaw gradually set in as he turned his head, looking around the room. He remembered what he had done to strain his jaw, and he squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to block the memories. His behaviour had been outrageous, but he was a bit glad that he had taken the opportunity to use alcohol as an excuse for his actions.

"Ah, Aoba-san, are you awake? I hope there was nothing you needed to get up for. You looked so peaceful that I couldn't bear to wake you."

Aoba turned to look at the source of the sound. Clear stood in the doorway, already dressed and wearing a kitchen apron. Aoba was a bit irritated to see how chipper Clear seemed until he noticed how tired his eyes looked; he was hungover, too. He took refuge in the fact that Clear was human, too. Why did that feel weird to realize?

Aoba sat up, but was instantly hit with a thwacking pain throughout the whole of his skull. Several other aches popped up a second later, suggesting to Aoba that he was too old to still be doing this kind of thing. The days of his youth were behind him. At twenty-three years old, his body was already failing him. Tragic.

"I-I'll get you some clothes," Clear said, pulling Aoba out of his melodramatic quarter-life crisis. He looked down at himself and realized his upper body had been exposed when he had sat up. Bashful for absolutely no reason, he covered himself with the sheet. Clear had already familiarized himself with his body, but Aoba still felt it was pertinent that he hide his chest from Clear.

Clear handed him some folded clothes and averted his eyes. Aoba chuckled.

"You don't need to be that shy," Aoba chided, despite being just as shy. "It's not like you didn't see it all last night."

Clear pouted. "T-That was different! It was dark! I thought you may be uncomfortable now that it's daytime."

"Thank you for being so respectful." Aoba took the pile of fabric, but hesitated. "Um, can I borrow your shower?" Aoba didn't think he needed to elaborate on the reasons why.

"Of course. Also, I plugged your phone in for you; it should be charged by now." He handed it to Aoba.

Aoba was touched that Clear had thought to do that. He briefly checked his notifications but saw that the only message he had was from Noiz, asking him if he had gotten home safely. He made a mental note to reply to it later; he wasn't sure how to explain to his friends what had happened last night.

Clear led Aoba to the bathroom, which Aoba tried not to gawk at. It was so clean! Aoba rarely had time to thoroughly clean his own bathroom, so there was usually at least a small amount of grime. Clear's bathroom looked so sterile; the white tiles actually gleamed white. There were fancy towels and bars of soap on dishes that Aoba knew he wasn't supposed to use. The immaculacy of the bathroom was a calming presence as Aoba tried to scrub the residual shame from his body. It actually did make him feel better to be clean; it was likely a placebo effect, but he felt less hungover.

Before leaving the bathroom, Aoba took the opportunity to snoop in the medicine cabinet, but found nothing of interest aside from some standard painkillers and some tubes of lipstick; he assumed those belonged to Clear's mother. He wondered what kind of person Clear's mother was. Aoba had never known his own mother, but he liked to imagine she was a nice lady who wore floral aprons and was always baking cookies. He wondered if Clear's mother was anything like that.

As soon as he stepped out of the bathroom, Clear hugged Aoba, distracting him from his reverie. Aoba was surprised, but didn't fight it. He leaned in, resting his head against Clear's shoulder. It felt like a safe place to be. He considered what it would be like to do this more frequently -- to let himself grow closer, to let himself get comfortable with this kind of thing. He thought it might be nice to let it continue and see where this budding relationship between him and Clear went.

"I-I'm sorry," Clear mumbled, still holding on to Aoba. "I couldn't help myself. You look very cute."

"You don't need to apologize so much."

"I don't want to overstep any boundaries."

Aoba pulled back to look at Clear with one eyebrow raised. "You're worried about boundaries now?"

Clear's cheeks tinged pink. "I-I'm sorry if I did something you didn't like. I, um, I guess I got a little too excited last night."

"No, it was fine." Aoba looked off to the side. "It was good."

"Oh?" Clear's lips twinged upwards. "That's good to hear."

Aoba's stomach rumbled audibly, interrupting their flirtation. Aoba's eyes widened and he broke away from their hug, covering his stomach with his arms instead.

"I-I'm sorry!" Aoba stammered, horrified by the unintentional signal of his poverty.

Clear smiled. "No need to apologize. I made food, but you don't need to eat it if you don't like it. I have some other things you can have instead."

Clear led him to the kitchen. Aoba saw some potatoes and vegetables in one pan, and some bacon in another, and he could smell toast heating up in the toaster. He couldn't imagine how Clear could think he would refuse. Aoba's stomach rumbling increased tenfold at the promise of food.

"I-It looks really good," Aoba said in awe. "Thank you."

"It's no trouble. Please sit down; I will bring it to you."

Aoba watched as Clear arranged some food on a plate. He squirted some ketchup on the potatoes before bringing it over to the table. Aoba looked down, seeing that Clear had drawn a heart with ketchup. Oh, geez. His heart thudded in his chest and he had to restrain himself from verbally expressing how cute he thought it was. Was he really this far gone already?

It took a godly amount of willpower for Aoba to wait for Clear to sit down before he started eating, but his granny had raised him right; it was impolite to eat before everyone was ready, no matter how starving he was. Once Clear was settled at the table, though, Aoba's restraint snapped and he started eating at an embarrassingly alarming rate, barely tasting the food as he scarfed it down. When he took a break to sip at his orange juice, he finally noticed Clear gawking at him.

"Aoba-san, were you  _ that  _ hungry? I would have fed you last night if I'd have known…"

"I-I, uh, didn't get a chance to eat dinner last night."

Clear raised an eyebrow. "You didn't get a chance? What does that mean?"

Aoba glared at him. "It means I didn't get a chance! Anyway, you don't need to be too worried about me from now on. I got a job at a flower shop."

"Oh?" Clear's mood brightened. "That's great! When did that happen?"

"A few days ago. I haven't actually started working yet, but at least I know I will have more money soon."

Clear smiled at him. Aoba worried for a moment that Clear would try to investigate further about why Aoba needed a job so desperately, but Clear remained silent. To prevent any further conversation, Aoba went back to eating. Clear's mother must have instilled in him a great love of cooking; it was obvious that a lot of care went into the food. However, Aoba also understood that any food would taste especially delicious to someone who was extremely hungry.

Aoba could feel Clear's eyes on him again, so he looked up. Clear was gazing at him fondly.

"What is it?"

"Aoba-san," Clear said, resting his head on his palm, "I forgot to mention this earlier, but it was very nice to hear your voice like that last night."

"U-Um…" Clear's sincerity caught Aoba off-guard. "That's… good, I guess…"

"I've always enjoyed the sound of your voice because it's the only voice I've ever been able to hear so clearly. But my enjoyment of it was different when I heard you make those sounds." He hummed in thought. "It was akin to a religious experience."

"Wha-- really?"

Clear chuckled. "Kind of. Did you not feel it, too?"

"N-No, I felt it." Aoba didn't want to acknowledge that he knew what Clear was talking about, but it was a relief to know that it wasn't all one-sided.

"It was odd, wasn't it?"

Aoba nodded. "It felt like I knew you, somehow. More than I thought I did."

Clear's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to say something, but Aoba's phone rang, interrupting them. It was his granny calling him, and she only called if it was urgent, so Aoba stepped away from the table to answer.

"Granny?"

"Aoba, it's…" There was a pause. "Your brother, his condition has worsened. He had difficulty breathing last night, so we went to the hospital." Another pause. "The doctor says he needs to stay there."

"Oh, no… For how long?"

A long pause. "Indefinitely. Until he gets better enough to come home again."

Aoba was worried for his brother, that was undeniable, but he felt a sick sense of guilt that his first worry was how they were going to be able to afford that. They could stay afloat if Sei was being cared for by them, at home, because Tae could borrow medical equipment. But being an inpatient at a hospital was expensive, and they couldn't manage that with Aoba and Tae's meagre combined income. Aoba would have to start working more; Tae worked enough as it was, and he didn't want to make his granny have to work even harder. Aoba needed to take responsibility.

"I-I'll head to the hospital right now."

"See you soon." She hung up.

Aoba stood there, shocked, still holding the phone to his ear. His granny must have been so scared, and he wasn't there for her. He wasn't there for Sei, either.

"Aoba-san, is everything okay?" Clear asked, voice soft.

Aoba should have been home last night. What if something worse had happened? What if Sei had died? What if he had been out getting drunk and having unprotected sex with someone he barely knew instead of being there for his brother's last moments? He couldn't even look at Clear. He felt so disgusting and so ashamed of himself, and he was worried that he would lose his composure if he made eye contact right now. He turned away from him, hugging his arms around himself for a semblance of comfort.

"Aoba-san?" Clear hesitantly placed his hand on Aoba's shoulder.

"I have to go." Aoba shrugged him off.

"Aoba-san," Clear repeated, which was starting to become irritating. "Please tell me what's going on."

"N-Nothing." Aoba could feel his lower lip wobble. "It has nothing to do with you."

"Please," Clear whispered. He pulled Aoba's arm to get him to turn around. Aoba ducked his head so Clear couldn't see his eyes.

"I don't want to talk about it."

Clear placed his index finger under Aoba's chin, coaxing him to look up. Aoba raised his head to face him but still couldn't meet his eyes.

"You don't need to tell me," Clear murmured. "If it won't help, I won't make you talk about it. I just want to help you."

"I don't think you would understand." Aoba sniffed, trying to keep himself from breaking down. He thought about Clear's perfect life and realized that they had nothing in common. Aoba didn't need to expose Clear to his depressing reality.

"I could try to understand," Clear said, hopeful, reaching out to take Aoba's hand. Aoba pulled it out of his grasp.

"You don't need to burden yourself with my problems."

"But you burden yourself with mine, don't you?"

Aoba narrowed his eyes. "That's different."

"It's not. You help me with school because I have difficulty hearing. Do you think of that as a burden?"

"You give me food in exchange."

Clear frowned. "Food isn't worth that much effort."

"I wouldn't help you if it weren't for that," Aoba lied, trying to make Clear angry so he would stop trying to help.

Clear's frown became worried rather than chastising. "You wouldn't?"

Aoba avoided answering. "And you won't get anything in exchange for helping me, either."

"Have you considered that maybe I want to help you because I like you, and I don't want anything in return?"

Aoba felt that weird feeling again, like he wanted to reach out and pull Clear close because their time together was precious. He looked up, meeting Clear's gaze, finding himself relieved to see him in one piece.

Wait, what? Why would Clear not be…?

He was too exhausted to dwell on it.

"I can't tell you what's going on. I can't accept your help." If he told Clear the truth, Clear would pity him. He would only want to help him out of pity, and he would never view Aoba the same way again. Aoba could handle this on his own.

Clear sighed. "Okay. I'll stop pushing."

Aoba left, then, without really saying goodbye. He didn't have time to waste on a relationship. Although he had felt a strange connection with Clear, he knew it had likely been because they were drunk; just because Clear had also felt it didn't mean that it was real. It wasn't a good idea to continue this, and he was glad he had chosen to leave the way he did. It wasn't likely that he would run into Clear at school; if he was lucky, they would never see each other again. Perhaps he should have mentioned to Clear that he would need to find a new notetaker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there are really only like two major plot points i'm stealing from hidamari ga kikoeru and the second one is coming soon. lol


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clear experiences withdrawal symptoms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have really been enjoying working on this fic!! this chapter is clear's pov which has always been a fun change of pace

Clear had listened to Aoba's request and had not asked him any more questions about his predicament. What Clear hadn't agreed to, however, was to never ask Aoba any questions about anything, or talk to him at all, or even try to catch his eye and wave at him when he saw him at school. Aoba was ignoring him, which Clear kind of understood, but also kind of didn't. What could be so bad that Aoba couldn't bring himself to so much as sniff in Clear's direction? Had the sex been that bad? Clear doubted it.

Speaking of which, Clear was surprised that Aoba was able to forget about what had happened between them, especially since they had seemed to be on the same page. Aoba had mentioned feeling like he knew Clear more deeply than he really did; when Clear heard him say that, he had been eager to share that he had been feeling the same way lately. Each time he heard Aoba's voice, clear as day despite being on the other side of the room, it felt like he was unlocking some kind of secret, hidden memory. Of course, he hadn't had a chance to share that with Aoba, and he doubted he ever would at this point.

As for his note situation, Clear had needed to seek alternate arrangements; Aoba had not only been ignoring Clear, but also skipping class at an alarming frequency. Thankfully, Mizuki offered to pick up most of Aoba's slack. Koujaku and Noiz also offered to help him with the classes they shared, which was sweet of them; Clear felt lucky to have friends he could rely on. He only wished Aoba was one of them.

"Aoba-san isn't in class today, either," Clear sighed, wistful, as the clock ticked closer to the beginning of class. If Aoba was coming, he would be here by now. He peeked over at Koujaku, who sat next to him, hoping to coax him into sharing some intimate details of Aoba's life.

"Yeah, he's gotta work more, so he can't come to class all the time. He had to get a second job, so he's really busy."

"Oh? Why?" Clear leaned in, trying to subconsciously pressure Koujaku into revealing more information.

Koujaku looked away. "Uh, I don't know."

"You don't?"

Koujaku cleared his throat. "Um. No. Uh, I mean, I don't know."

"Are you not allowed to tell me?"

Koujaku looked at Clear again, sheepish. "He told me not to. Sorry."

"Is he mad at me?"

"What? No, not at all. He likes you."

"Oh?" Clear raised his eyebrows, teasing Koujaku a bit. "He likes me? How so?"

Koujaku's eyes widened as he realized his mistake. "I-I don't know! Forget I said that."

"Did he tell you what happened after Noiz-san's party?"

"What? No! I mean…" Koujaku's cheeks reddened. "I'm not saying anything else!"

Clear laughed, enjoying how easily he could fluster Koujaku. But it was fine; if he wasn't willing to share, Clear would just have to search elsewhere.

Later that day, in his afternoon class, Clear turned to Noiz. He needed to come at Noiz with more targeted questions; he was a tougher nut to crack than Koujaku, and even Koujaku had ultimately refused to divulge any real useful information. Clear thought he had finally formulated the perfect question to get Noiz talking, and he was ready to unleash it!

"Hey, Noiz-san--"

"I'm not telling you anything about Aoba."

Damn it. Well, he could always try Koujaku again. Or, better yet, he could ask Aoba himself! He asked Noiz for Aoba's number, realizing he hadn't got it from him yet. Noiz gave it with no hesitation, likely glad to do anything to shut Clear up.

"Aoba-san, I'm sorry if I've done something to upset you," he typed. "You don't need to talk to me about what's going on! I just want to hear from you. Are you okay?" Clear sent the message and set his phone face-up on the desk.

Aoba responded within a few minutes. Clear discreetly opened it, unable to wait until class was over. Noiz would share his notes with him after class, anyway, so it was fine to miss a few minutes.

"Hi Clear. I'm sorry I've been busy so I can't talk to you anymore," Aoba wrote. It was weird and vague and didn't have proper grammatical flow, but most of all, it hurt! It hurt to read Aoba's pathetic attempt at rejection!

Clear responded. "Okay. I understand that you don't want to see me anymore. I'll stop bothering you. But I'll just let you know that we have an assignment due in two weeks for 422."

"Thanks. I probably won't have time for it though," Aoba wrote back.

Clear frowned as he typed his reply. "Please don't feel that you need to fall behind in school… I can help you catch up so you can work on the assignment."

"You are so sweet and so so so so stupid for pursuing me like this," Aoba sent after a few minutes. Then, a second later, "I am so sorry I did not mean to actually send that."

"No worries. I suppose it is stupid of me to pursue someone who isn't interested. I'll leave you alone." Clear stared at the words, about to press send, but he hesitated. He felt a brief flare of annoyance at Aoba's smug elusivity and backspaced his message, typing in its place, "How is it so easy for you to pretend like nothing happened? How does that not bother you? Are you able to sleep at night? Because I can't." He sent the message, feeling a pit in his stomach the instant he did. Well, if Aoba could send a rude message, then Clear could send one back. Although Aoba's had been an accident…

Oh! Aoba had replied! Clear glanced at the message, reading the first few words.

"Fuck you."

Ouch! Aoba was angry! Clear read the rest of the message.

"I'm not pretending at all. I'm busy. I have other things going on, and it doesn't bother me because I have bigger things to worry about."

Oh, no. If Aoba had been hesitant to talk to Clear before, he certainly wouldn't want to speak to him now. Clear immediately backed down, deciding to grovel and apologize instead.

"I'm sorry, Aoba-san. Really. I shouldn't have said that. But you can't treat me like this and expect me to be okay with it, especially if you're not willing to explain. I will leave you alone now."

"Good. Thank you." He followed it up with, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that it's like this."

Clear didn't respond. Aoba sent a follow-up text after a few minutes.

".......I can't sleep either."

Clear still didn't respond...but the urge to was strong.

As the weeks passed, Clear kept his word and left Aoba alone; Aoba's absence made it much easier for him to do so. Aoba had been missing so many classes that Clear was worried that he would fail due to poor attendance. Clear wanted to help, but he didn't have any way of helping. However, when he signed the attendance sheet that was passed around at the beginning of class one morning, he paused, looked around, and quickly scribbled a signature next to Aoba's name. It occurred to him to do this in every class where he was given the opportunity. He hoped the professors didn't look too closely; the class was too big for them to notice his absence, and he always sat at the back so they didn't know his face. The only way they would notice was if they compared the signatures, which Clear doubted they would do.

"Dude," Noiz said as he watched Clear commit an act of academic dishonesty, "Just go talk to him."

"I can't," Clear said, passing the sheet along. "Aoba-san wants me to leave him alone."

"Go to his house with a shit ton of food or something and he won't turn you away. I promise."

Clear hummed in thought. "He does like my cooking… But he seems so secretive about his life. He might get angry if I encroach on his space like that."

"Aoba's just being a baby. He needs food, anyway. Tell him I told you to go, I don't give a shit."

"If you think that's a good idea, Noiz-san…"

"I do. And if he gets mad and kicks your ass, then you know to leave him alone for real. But I think he just thinks you're gonna think less of him. He really cares what you think."

"Who does?" Koujaku said, arriving just in time to class. He looked around for the attendance sheet before realizing he had missed it. "Damn it. Did you sign for me?"

"Of course, sweetheart," Noiz mocked. "I knew you were coming, anyway, unlike Clear over here who keeps signing for Aoba in every class."

"Oh, is that who you were talking about? Aoba?"

"Yeah. I told him to just go see him already."

"I don't know," Koujaku said, hesitant.

"I told him to bring food with him."

"Oh, there's an idea. Yeah, you should do that, Clear."

The professor started talking, so their conversation was cut short. Clear kept thinking about Noiz's idea, and the various ways it could go; he pictured Aoba reacting with gratitude and confessing his undying love for Clear and proposing to him on the spot… but he also pictured Aoba taking the bags of food and slamming the door in Clear's face. One of those seemed more likely than the other.

He stopped daydreaming to focus on reading the professor's lips. There was an assignment due in this class, too? Next week? Twenty-five percent? Aoba wouldn't be able to get that done in time! And if he got a zero on that assignment… No! Aoba couldn't fail the class! Then he would have to repeat the class… At this rate, he'd have to repeat every class he was taking this semester!

A four-page assignment… Four pages, that wasn't so bad. If Clear helped Aoba, he could do it. But Aoba didn't want Clear's help…

Oh.

Wait.

Well, Clear was already signing Aoba's name; why not take it a step further?

Noiz elbowed Clear, seemingly reading his mind. "Dude, no," he whispered. "You are not doing his assignments for him. His head can't be _that_ good."

Clear blinked, taking a moment to realize what Noiz meant. How much had Aoba told him?

The possibility of expulsion for doing Aoba's assignments for him was the only thing holding Clear back. He didn't think it was worth risking that, but he also had confidence in his ability to make the assignments look as if he hadn't written them; all he had to do was not proofread them as closely. He would aim for a grade in the B range for Aoba, which Clear assumed wouldn't stand out as abnormal for him. 

He was still contemplating it when he met up with Mizuki in the student centre to collect his notes.

"Here are the notes from yesterday," Mizuki said, presenting a few papers.

"Ah, thank you, Mizuki-san! Here, I have something for you!" He reached into his bag and handed Mizuki a small bag of cookies.

"Oh, wow! Thank you! You know, you didn't have to give me anything in return. It's a volunteer position."

"I know, I know! I just wanted to show my gratitude."

Mizuki chuckled. "Aoba's a lucky guy!"

Clear cocked his head in confusion. "Huh? What do you mean, Mizuki-san?"

"Oh, well, uh," Mizuki stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Aren't you guys, like… Together?"

Clear's eyes widened. "What? Who said that?"

"Uh, nobody, I guess! I just thought, I mean… He was sitting on your lap at Noiz's party."

Oh. Clear had forgotten about that, and he had just assumed that everyone else had forgotten, too. He wondered if Aoba still remembered.

"Also, Koujaku mentioned something about it."

"About what?"

"About Aoba saying he really liked you." Mizuki paused. "Am I not supposed to be telling you this?"

"No, it's fine," Clear said, grateful that Aoba hadn't yet sworn Mizuki to secrecy. "Do you know why Aoba-san stopped coming to school?"

"Because of his brother, right? Wait, shouldn't you know that already?"

Clear ignored Mizuki's question. "What's wrong with his brother?"

"He's been really sick for like, years. Has Aoba not told you about it? His medical bills are super expensive, so Aoba and his granny are working hard to support him. They've been struggling for a while."

"Oh…" Clear felt awful for making this whole thing about him and getting angry that Aoba was ignoring him. Aoba had more pressing matters to deal with; of course he wouldn't have time for Clear right now. Clear felt awful that he had been anything but respectful and supportive, and he decided to fix that. He would bring food to Aoba's house, and if Aoba slammed the door in his face, he would leave it on the doorstep and leave. He would do Aoba's assignments for him and never tell Aoba about it; he just wanted him to pass the semester. If Aoba wanted to retake the courses later, he could, but at least he would have the option to graduate next year if he wanted to.

"I feel like I've told you something I shouldn't have," Mizuki said with regret evident on his face.

"That's okay! Thank you so much, Mizuki-san!" Clear picked Mizuki up in a swinging bear hug, squeezed him tight, then set him on his feet and left abruptly. He had a lot of cooking to do!

"O-Okay," Mizuki mumbled, utterly confused, although Clear was long since out of earshot. "Thanks again for the cookies…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> clear simps aoba so hard he's doing his homework for him LOL


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clear visits Aoba.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am speeding through this fic and i am loving every minute of it!!

Clear hoped Aoba wouldn't think of him as a stalker. Maybe it was stalker-ish to find out the address of someone you slept with over a month ago and bring a gift to their house, but Clear had already decided that he was only going to deliver the food he had cooked. He would not pester Aoba about his decision to essentially drop out of school, or ask him to share any details about his life. He wouldn't even ask to come inside unless Aoba invited him in, just like a vampire! If he pretended to be a vampire, it would make it more fun, he figured.

He approached the house, confirming that he had the correct address before heading for the front porch. He was embarrassed enough to be doing something like this -- he didn't need to make it worse by having the wrong house.

Clear rang the doorbell. His pulse thudded in his chest when he heard something shuffle behind the door. It opened a few seconds later.

"Hi, Aoba-san!" Clear put on an extra-bright smile and hoped that his presence didn't inspire rage within Aoba.

Aoba blinked. "You're not the mailman."

Aoba was certainly shocked to see Clear holding several bags full of stacked plastic containers. Immediately, he stepped outside the house and shut the door behind himself.

"Clear, how did you get my address?" His eyes darted around, as if they were doing something illegal and he didn't want his neighbours to see.

"Noiz-san gave it to me. He said it would be a good idea to come see you."

Aoba looked at the bags in Clear's hands. "What's that?"

"I made you and your family some food. It should last several weeks if you freeze it."

Aoba eyes remained on the bags. "Why did you go to all that trouble?"

"I heard that you were having a difficult time. I wanted to do something to make things easier for you."

Aoba looked up, brows furrowing at Clear's words. "I don't need any help."

"I know you don't need it. I still want to help you. Please, at least take the food. That will be one less thing to worry about for a while."

Clear knew that he had helped Aoba in more ways than this; he had been staying up late the past few nights to ensure that he was able to keep up with his own schoolwork while also doing Aoba's assignments. He knew enough to keep that to himself, though; if Aoba reacted this negatively to a food donation, Clear couldn't imagine the rage that would ensue in response to his forgery.

Aoba crossed his arms, frowning at Clear for a few seconds. Then he uncrossed them and opened the front door to the house, sighing heavily.

"Come in."

Taken aback, Clear set the bags down to remove his shoes. Aoba picked them up and carried them inside. Clear followed him once he had set his shoes neatly beside Aoba's on the mat.

Aoba had gone down to the basement to put the food in the freezer, giving Clear a chance to take in his surroundings. Aoba's house was a bit cluttered, but it was otherwise normal. Clear understood that Aoba and his family were too busy to worry about keeping their house spotless. Still, it wasn't very messy, considering the circumstances. The furniture looked dated, like it may have been several decades old, but it didn't stand out as unusual. Aoba did live with his granny, after all.

Aoba came up the stairs. Clear smiled at him.

"Your house is very --"

"Don't. Please."

"...Nice. I was going to say it was nice, Aoba-san."

"I know it's not." Aoba looked down at his feet. "It's gross. I don't have much time to clean."

Clear blinked, genuinely confused. "Do you think your house is dirty, Aoba-san? It's not. It looks normal."

Aoba looked up at him. "What? No, it's not. It's gross," he repeated. "It's small and cluttered. It smells bad."

"Your standards are too high. This looks like a home with occupants. My home is no cleaner."

"Please don't compare my house to yours," Aoba scoffed, crossing his arms again. "Your house is what a house is supposed to look like. Mine looks like an old shack."

"I think you may have an inferiority complex. There is nothing unusual about the state of your home."

Aoba frowned. "You don't need to try and flatter me."

"I'm not. It's the truth."

"No, you're just saying that. I know it's awful. And now that you've seen it, you're gonna…" He trailed off. "You won't want to be associated with me anymore."

"Why do you think that? I like being around you, Aoba-san. If I didn't, I wouldn't have made all that food and delivered it to you."

"You just feel bad for me. You found out about my brother, didn't you?" Aoba raised his eyebrow.

"Well, yes, but --"

"So now that you've done this grand, generous act of kindness, you'll feel better about yourself and move on from me. That's usually how these things go." Aoba's tone suggested that he had Clear all figured out.

"What? No, I won't do that. It's not that I just wanted to help you; I wanted to see you," Clear insisted. "I like you."

"Don't say that." Aoba looked at his feet again. "Don't...get my hopes up."

"Aoba-san, I mean it. I like you."

Aoba's lower lip started to tremble. Oh, no, not again! Clear didn't know what to do in situations like this.

"Aoba-san," Clear said, frantically trying to calm him down, "I swear I'm not here out of pity, and I don't think any less of you!"

"Yes, you do!" A tear rolled down Aoba's cheek. "You know about my weird, gross house and my sick brother and the fact that I don't have any money and you're not gonna want to see me anymore."

"A-Aoba-san, I'm not the one who didn't want us to see each other! That was you, remember?" Clear stepped closer. "I promise, Aoba-san. I don't think any differently of you."

"B-But…"

"Is that why you avoided me? Because you were afraid that I wouldn't like you anymore if I knew the struggles you face?"

"That's oversimplifying it…"

Clear smiled softly. "Well, if that was part of the reason you were worried, I can assure you that I don't like you any less."

Aoba looked up at him. When he did, a few more tears spilled over, so Clear wiped them away.

"I-I guess I believe you," Aoba mumbled, sniffling and wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "But it's hard to. I tried to act like everything was normal because I didn't want to drag you into this."

"I want to be dragged into your life, Aoba-san. Please drag me in as much as you can."

"It's embarrassing. And it's especially embarrassing that I'm so emotional about it…"

"It isn't embarrassing to show emotions, Aoba-san. But it does hurt to see you so upset. I wish I knew how to take your pain away."

"That's not your responsibility."

"Still… Seeing how much pain you're in is so hard; I want to show you that you can rely on me for anything, and do whatever I can to prevent you from feeling things like this. I know it's an immature wish, but I want to prove to you that I am worthy of being your partner. I never want to stop showing you that." He paused. "But if you don't want me, I understand; I will just prove to you that I'm worthy of being your friend, instead."

Aoba blinked a few times. "You seriously want to date me? Me? Even though I live like this?" He gestured around the living room which, again, was completely normal.

Clear stepped closer. "Yes, I do."

Aoba stepped closer, too. "Well, if you really want to, then…"

"You're willing to give me a chance?" Clear asked, hopeful but still wary of pushing too much.

"I-I guess so," Aoba said with a hint of a smile.

Clear felt a smile tug at his lips, too. "Well, that's good."

"Y-Yeah."

Clear stepped even closer. "I want to kiss you, Aoba-san. But I don't want to frighten you."

Aoba laughed, letting his eyes fall shut. He then peered up at Clear through his lashes. "That's okay. You won't frighten me."

Clear reached out to gently hold Aoba's face in his hands. He swiped away the few remaining tears on his cheeks before leaning in, angling Aoba's jaw upwards as he did. Their lips met, and Clear heard something, for a split second, there was something -- somebody -- calling? -- yelling? -- his name? Who was that? It sounded like --

Aoba leaned into the kiss more, parting his lips and snaking his arms around Clear's waist, and Clear lost his train of thought. He let his hands slide from Aoba's face to his neck, then down to his shoulders, feeling the bones under Aoba's skin. He was glad he had decided to bring the food over, after all; Aoba was skinnier than he had remembered him being.

"Aoba-san… I love you," Clear said as he pulled away. Wait, what? Where did that come from? Clear didn't…  _ love _ Aoba… did he? He liked Aoba; he knew that for sure, but he didn't think his feelings had yet reached that point. Maybe he really did love Aoba, though. Why else would he have said it?

Why…?

Clear glanced at Aoba's face to read his expression; his mouth was agape, his cheeks quickly growing flushed. He hadn't yet retracted his arms.

"Y-You… really?"

"Um, I-I don't know. It just kind of came out."

"Wow. Um, okay." Aoba's gaze shifted off to the side. When he spoke again, his tone was much softer, but he seemed unable to maintain eye contact. "Well, it's okay. If you feel that way about me, I mean. N-Not that I, um, feel the same way right now. But."

"But what?"

"I-I might. In the future."

That was pretty promising coming from Aoba. Before Clear had a chance to respond, though, Aoba spoke again; he fiddled with one of the buttons on Clear's shirt as he did.

"You know, my granny won't be back until later, and now that Sei's staying at the hospital, we're all alone here."

"Oh, really? It must be lonely for you when you're here by yourself," Clear said, not realizing how obtuse he was being.

"Well, usually I'm at work, too, but…" He dragged his finger in circles on Clear's back. "It's just us here right now."

Oh. Clear understood now.

"Do you want to come see my room?"

Oh, dear. Clear hoped Aoba was prepared for the four weeks of repressed emotions Clear was carrying.

Aoba led Clear up the stairs to his room. Clear really, really, really tried his hardest not to look at Aoba's ass as he walked up the stairs, but, well… It had been a while since he had last seen Aoba, after all.

Aoba's room was, like the rest of his house, normal. The bed was unmade and there were some clothes strewn about the floor, but it was otherwise neat. There were some photographs on the wall of a child-aged Aoba with some other people; Clear assumed that the other boy in the photos was Aoba's brother, and that the woman was their granny. He wished he could take a closer look but he didn't want to weird Aoba out by taking too much interest.

"Come sit," Aoba said, sitting on the bed and patting the spot beside him. Clear sat down; the bed creaked as it shifted under his weight.

"Aoba-san," Clear said, tone half-teasing, "What did you want to do up here?"

Aoba fidgeted with his shirt sleeve. "I don't know."

"I certainly hope you didn't bring me here with impure intentions."

Aoba's cheeks flushed and he ducked his head. "N-No! I mean…"

"I'm kidding." Clear chuckled. "It's okay, if you did."

Aoba peeked up. "Really?"

"Yes. I've missed you, you know."

Aoba's lips turned up a bit at one corner. "I missed you, too."

Clear leaned in, kissing Aoba sweetly at first, but it had been a while since they had seen each other; Clear could feel himself getting too excited. He tried to calm himself down, to restrain himself a little, but Aoba wouldn't let him. Aoba licked his way past Clear's lips, kissing him deeply as he tangled his fingers in Clear's hair. Clear was taken aback at Aoba's show of passion; he wasn't expecting Aoba to crawl into his lap and feel all over Clear's body with his hands, moaning through his nose as he did. What had gotten into him?

Aoba fumbled with the buttons on Clear's shirt, scrambling to get it off. Clear pulled away for a moment to take it off himself. Aoba took the chance to take his own shirt off, and also his pants, and his underwear… Clear felt like things were moving too quickly, but he couldn't bring himself to tell Aoba to slow down when he saw how flushed his cheeks were, and how hard his cock was, and how laboured his breaths were. Clear quickly removed the rest of his clothes, feeling Aoba's hungry eyes on him as his body was revealed.

Although it was somewhat embarrassing to be stared at by Aoba so intently, Clear was relieved to see Aoba express his desire openly. Most of the time, when they had sex, Aoba was bashful and timid; Clear always found it especially arousing when Aoba was an enthusiastic participant. It reassured him that Aoba really wanted him, too.

Hold up… Most of the time? They had only done this once. Clear shook the thoughts from his head, choosing to remain focused on the present. There were much more pressing matters at hand. Aoba's incessant kissing at his neck was distracting him, anyway.

Aoba pushed Clear down onto the bed, pinning him down by the shoulders and climbing on top of him. He was being so forceful; Clear wondered what was going through Aoba's head. Was he having the same strange thoughts that he described experiencing last time? Aside from that, Clear hoped that Aoba was having the same thoughts that he was right now. He looked up at Aoba, feeling so lucky to have such a beautiful person on top of him like this. Aoba was looking down at him, too; Clear hoped he felt the same way.

He dug his fingers into Aoba's hips, pulling them closer so he could grind their cocks together. Aoba gasped at the pressure, hips involuntarily (or voluntarily?) moving against him.

"Is it okay if we just do it like this?" Clear asked. "I'm not sure I have the patience for anything else."

"Y-Yeah, this is fine."

"Hm?" Clear slid his hands further, squeezing Aoba's ass. "Only fine?"

"You know what I meant. I-It's good. But…" Aoba trailed off, reaching in his bedside drawer and pulling out a bottle of lube. "This will make it easier." He squeezed some into his palm and applied it to his own cock, then rubbed it against Clear's to spread it around.

Clear moaned at the contact. "You're right. Good idea, Aoba-san."

Aoba took charge; he rested himself on Clear's upper body for support as he gyrated his hips. He was unintentionally holding Clear in place by leaning on him, but Clear didn't mind the feeling of being restrained. Without being able to move, all he could do was focus on Aoba; he was all he could see, and hear, and feel, and taste… He let Aoba do what he wanted. He was happy to receive any attention Aoba was willing to give.

Aoba parted Clear's lips with his tongue, breaching past them to enter his mouth and further occupy his senses. Clear wanted nothing more than to be surrounded by Aoba in every way possible; he never wanted to have to be separated from him again. No matter how much he got from Aoba, he didn't think it would ever be enough. He didn't think he would be able to live without him.

"I love you, Aoba-san," Clear murmured against Aoba's lips. He knew he meant it this time.

Aoba kissed Clear again, hard, and let out a shuddering moan. His movements stuttered as he reached orgasm; Clear could feel Aoba's come against his skin. It occurred to him that his words might have had an influence, that they might have been what pushed him over the edge; that was too much for Clear to handle, and he came a second later. His hips bucked up against Aoba, and although Aoba was quickly losing strength, he tried to give Clear the friction he needed. When it was over, Aoba's upper body strength gave out and he slumped his whole weight down on Clear. Clear didn't mind.

"You really mean that?" Aoba mumbled without lifting his face from Clear's chest.

"Yes," Clear said, knowing what Aoba meant. "I really do."

Aoba sighed, but he didn't sound upset. "I hope you're making a good decision."

"Of course I am," Clear murmured as he rubbed circles into Aoba's back. "I've never been more sure of anything."

Aoba didn't reply, but Clear felt him press a soft kiss against his collarbone. That was all the response he needed for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was not supposed to have a sex scene but. hey. what can ya do


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start to look up for Aoba.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no idea why this chapter ended up being substantially longer than every other chapter so far. it just kept growing lol. enjoy!!

Aoba hated his second job! Working at the combination antique-flower shop was fine, but his second job as a server was awful. People were so rude, and Aoba was so tired all the time that he made mistakes. He would rather sit in class for the rest of the year, bored out of his mind, than work another double shift. Alas, he had another one scheduled today. Why did the restaurant have to stay open so late? The only people who stopped by past midnight were drunk teenagers, and Aoba didn't get paid enough to babysit them.

The upside to working such long, agonizing hours was that Aoba's family had enough money to get by for the time being. Although Aoba didn't have much time to visit Sei in the hospital, his granny was giving him frequent updates; his condition was better, even better than it had been before he had needed to stay at the hospital, and he would likely be able to come home in a few weeks. According to Tae, Sei had enough strength to walk for a short period of time. If they had been able to pay for it, they would have sent him to a real hospital a long time ago. Not that Aoba doubted Tae's medical skills, but there was something different about an entire building of dedicated staff and equipment versus a single, overworked elderly woman with secondhand supplies.

It would be nice for them to spend time as a family in a different setting than Sei's suffocating bedroom for once; maybe they could take him outside for the first time in months. Maybe, someday, if Sei's condition continued to improve, he could even go to school. He had graduated high school thanks to Tae's diligent homeschooling, but Sei had always envied Aoba's ability to go to university. And here Aoba was, squandering his opportunity and working himself ragged instead. 

He tried not to think about school right now; when he remembered the consequences he would have to face for missing so many classes and assignments, he felt sick with guilt. He would almost definitely have to repeat all his classes next year. Perhaps he could work something out with his professors, but he knew he should have told them about his situation as soon as it happened. It was unlikely that they would be sympathetic towards him. Regardless, he had to wait until Sei was at home again before he made any decisions about school.

As he sat in the break room with fifteen minutes to go until the start of his shift, Aoba pulled his phone out of his pocket to absently scroll through social media. He quickly tired of it, though; the people he cared about didn't post very often. Speaking of the people he cared about, he hadn't had time to see Clear since the day he had stopped by to drop off several weeks' worth of food. Aoba swallowed his pride and decided to text first.

"Hey, how are you?" He typed, feeling like it was a lame way to start a conversation but sending it anyway.

Clear responded promptly. "I'm okay! I miss you, though." The message ended with a heart emoji.

Aoba stifled a smile in case someone came into the back room unannounced. He didn't want to be caught smiling like an idiot at his phone.

"I miss you, too. My granny says the food you made is really good, by the way."

Tae really had been impressed at how full the freezer had been when she had returned home that evening. She had been less impressed when she had gone upstairs and found Aoba snoozing, resting his head on the chest of a young man whom Tae had never seen before. At least they had gotten dressed first.

"It was so nice to meet Tae-san," Clear sent in response. "That reminds me. Would you like to come over tomorrow?"

Clear wanted him to come over… Would his mother be there? Was Aoba going to meet Clear's mother? Aoba was curious as to what kind of person she was, but he would surely be an anxious wreck around her. He was still interested, though, so he agreed to go over. Thankfully, his shift was about to start; under normal circumstances, this would be the worst part of his day, but he was grateful to be distracted from the anxiety forming in his gut.

The shift was long and arduous, but it did end eventually. He got home at four in the morning and flopped on his bed, not bothering to get under the covers before falling asleep.

It felt like ten minutes had passed when Aoba's alarm went off at nine o'clock the next morning. He had told Clear he would show up around noon, but he wanted some time to mentally prepare himself. He had some important matters to sort out; what would be the best thing to wear? If Clear's mother would be there, would it be better to wear something more presentable than usual? Or would that make him seem too stuck-up? After all, he didn't even know if she would be there. But Clear had implied that would be... He decided to just wear his usual combination of a long-sleeve shirt and jeans; it was a safe, neutral option. It was ridiculous to get so worked up over this!

Eleven o'clock rolled around more quickly than he had expected. It was time to leave! Luckily, Aoba had enough spare change on him to take the bus, which was a rare luxury. With the number of transfers, it was a nearly forty minute ride, but it was still a welcome relief for his aching feet to not have to walk.

As Aoba walked from the bus stop, approaching Clear's house, he remembered the last time he had been here. It had been dark before, and Clear had been distracting him with his wandering hands; Aoba hadn't really paid attention to the street.

Aoba walked up to the porch and knocked on the door. What if Clear's mother answered? What would he say? He should have thought of that before he got here; he had no time to think!

The door swung open, and Aoba had never been more relieved to see Clear's face.

"Hello, Aoba-san!" Clear greeted, welcoming Aoba into his home and shutting the door behind them.

"Hi. Thanks for...inviting me over," Aoba said, though he was distracted mid-sentence by Clear pulling him close for a hug.

"I've really missed seeing you at school," Clear murmured in his ear. "I didn't know how quiet the world would seem without you."

Aoba pressed his cheek against Clear's shoulder, choosing to respond to the first part of Clear's comment. "I'm sorry. I'm thinking about going back soon, though. Sei is almost ready to come home."

Clear pulled back and grinned at Aoba, evidently quite enthused at the news. "That's great!"

"Well, it's just an idea, for now," Aoba said, not trying to let Clear's hopes get too high. "Anyway, I'm not sure what I'm gonna do about all the assignments I missed."

"Oh, right, um, well…" Clear seemed fidgety all of a sudden. "Uh, why don't I make you some tea? Come to the kitchen with me."

Confused by the immediate change of topic, Aoba followed Clear through the hallway. Clear's house looked different in the daylight; it was not nearly as pristine as Aoba had originally thought. Clear's mother had obviously put effort into the décor; most of the furniture was yellow and white with some teal accents. But little details, like jackets thrown over chairs and books left open face-down on tables, made it look like a real home rather than a magazine spread.

There was a framed drawing of a jellyfish on the wall near the kitchen. Aoba stopped to take a closer look, realizing that the scrawled handwriting read, "Clear, age four." The jellyfish was magenta and had a crooked smiley face. It must have been a pretty important drawing to have survived almost twenty years.

"I didn't know you were an artist," Aoba joked, gesturing to the picture.

Clear laughed. "My mother has always been fond of that drawing."

Aoba looked at the drawing again, peering into the jellyfish's crayon eyes, before following Clear into the kitchen. He sat at the table while Clear filled the kettle with water and put it on the stove. As he watched Clear shuffle around the kitchen, he didn't notice the small, middle-aged woman enter the room until she sat down across from him.

"Oh, hi, Mom!" Clear said. "Aoba-san is here."

"I can see that," she said with a chuckle. "It's nice to meet you, Aoba-san! Clear has told me so much about you."

Aoba looked over at her, about to reply, but his words got stuck in his throat. Clear's mother was  _ so  _ pretty! Her hair was white, like Clear's, but it was long and wavy; she had it pulled away from her face with a sparkly pink barrette. She was looking at Aoba expectantly with her big, pink eyes, and Aoba stammered before formulating a response.

"It's nice to meet you, too, Mrs…" Aoba trailed off, realizing that he didn't know Clear's last name.

"Oh, stop with that. My name is Crystal!"

She and her son had matching names. Wasn't that cute? Aoba noticed how odd it was that she insisted on calling him "Aoba-san," but expected to be referred to by her first name alone. She must have taught Clear his oddly respectful manner of speech.

"O-Okay, then, Crystal… It's nice to meet you. Clear has told me about you, too, a little bit."

She laughed. "He says that you're awfully fond of my cooking!"

Aoba chuckled, bashful that Clear's mother was aware of his constant hunger. He also felt a small amount of guilt for making her cook extra food for Clear to bring for him, but he supposed she wouldn't have done it if she had seen it as a major inconvenience.

"Yes, I am. And I assume your skills have rubbed off on him, too."

"Oh, absolutely! Even when he was small, Clear was eager to help me in the kitchen. Hold on, I have a picture!" She got up from the table and left the room. Aoba could hear her opening a cupboard, or something similar, and rifling through some papers.

"Mom," Clear whined, dragging the word out. "Don't start showing him old pictures…"

"Here it is!" Clear's mother cheered, returning to the kitchen and holding up a photograph. She set it down in front of Aoba on the table. It depicted a small Clear in an apron and a too-big chef's hat, wielding a whisk. He was smiling despite missing several baby teeth.

"Oh, that's so cute," Aoba said. He looked up at present-day Clear and added, without thinking, "But he's much cuter now."

Clear gawked at Aoba; it was somewhat satisfying to see a blush tint his face all the way to his hairline. Should Aoba not have said that? He didn't want to embarrass himself in front of Clear's mother. It was fun to tease Clear, though.

"So it really is true, then," Clear's mother said with that all-knowing, motherly tone. "I thought Clear might have been getting ahead of himself, but it's actually true? You two are a couple?"

"Y-Yes, we are," Aoba said, suddenly shy again.

"You didn't believe me?!" Clear asked his mother, incredulous. He brought three cups of tea over to the table and sat down next to Aoba, putting his hand on Aoba's shoulder as if to solidify his outrage at being doubted.

"Sometimes, you let your excitement get ahead of itself. You've been complaining for over a month, now, that Aoba-san wanted to be left alone; then, you suddenly come home with the news that he's your boyfriend." She looked at Aoba. "Do you blame me?"

Aoba laughed. "No, I think you were within your right to be skeptical."

Clear pouted. "You guys are so mean!"

Clear's mother then began the pseudo-interview process, which Aoba was more than well-prepared for. She asked about Aoba's family, to which Aoba gave his somewhat depressing answer, and she asked about Aoba's plans for the future--again, the answer was not as hopeful as she may have been expecting. Although Aoba's expectations were dim, Clear's mother didn't seem to disapprove of him. 

In return, Clear's mother shared some details about her life. She told Aoba about how Clear's father left them twenty years ago, and how she had to scrape by doing menial kitchen jobs so she could afford for Clear to see a hearing specialist. Just because her house was tidy didn't mean her life was perfect; this was something Aoba should have realized sooner. He felt ashamed that he had treated Clear like he wouldn't be able to understand what he was going through. He definitely hadn't known that his mother couldn't afford new hearing aids for him.

Eventually, Clear suggested that he and Aoba go up to his room for a while to give everyone a break from the heavy topics. Clear's mother said that was a good idea; she would go outside for a while to tend to her garden. As they headed for the staircase, Clear's mother gave a gentle reminder to leave the bedroom door open. How embarrassing.

Clear then led him to his bedroom, which Aoba vaguely remembered the interior of. It was evident that Clear had cleaned his room in anticipation of Aoba's visit; there was nothing out of place aside from a few books on his desk. It was much neater than Aoba's own bedroom had been when Clear had visited.

"Thank you for cooperating with her questions," Clear said. "I've never brought someone home to meet her before, so she's probably not sure how to handle it yet."

This was the first time Clear's mother had met someone Clear was dating? It made sense, then, that she had asked so many prying questions.

"Do you think she likes me?" Aoba asked quietly.

Clear looked at Aoba with concern. "Of course she does. Why wouldn't she?"

"I don't know," Aoba mumbled. "I always just assume people don't."

"Please don't worry about that. She trusts my judgement. If I think you're a good person, then she will, too." He sat on the edge of his bed. "Come here."

Aoba sat down, mindful of the open door. However, Clear's mother had said she was going outside… He leaned into Clear, resting his hand on Clear's knee. Aoba felt Clear stiffen a bit; he put his hand on top of Aoba's, but didn't move it away just yet.

"A-Aoba-san, um, I wish we could, but I don't think it's wise for us to attempt anything while my mother is home."

Aoba grumbled. He was going to argue that she was outside, so it wasn't likely that she would hear anything, but he knew he was in the wrong. She could come back inside at any moment; it had been bad enough having Tae catch them cuddling. He didn't want to imagine how awful it would be to be caught doing something worse.

He sighed. "You're right."

"But that doesn't mean I can't still hold you," Clear murmured, sliding his arm around Aoba's waist. 

Aoba rested his head on Clear's shoulder and let his gaze drift around the room. He hadn't noticed before, but there was a small collection of glass bottles on Clear's dresser. They varied in size and colour, but they were all transparent. When he looked more closely, he saw more glass ornaments scattered atop various surfaces. It made him curious.

"Why do you have so many glass things?" Aoba wondered out loud.

"Oh, I don't know." Clear stopped his sentence there; Aoba waited a moment for him to continue, but quickly realized that it was all he had to say.

"You don't know?"

Clear laughed softly. "I really don't. They just make me feel a certain way; I'm not sure how to describe it." He paused. "Like they remind me of someone. I don't remember, though."

"Huh. That's weird," he said, although he knew it was a rude thing to say.

Clear laughed again, a bit harder. "You're right! It is weird. I've always been attracted to glass objects, and I don't know why."

"You're a big weirdo," Aoba grumbled, earning another chuckle from Clear.

Their conversation lulled; Aoba didn't have the energy to pry any further, and he didn't think he was going to get anywhere, anyway. He slumped further against Clear's side, letting his eyelids droop. He could have fallen asleep like that, but after a few minutes, he heard the grandfather clock in the hallway chime. It occurred to him that it was five o'clock, and he had to go to work in a few hours; he hadn't realized how much time had passed.

"Shit, it's five already?" He sat up, stretching slightly. "I have to go soon. I work tonight."

"Oh," Clear said, sounding disappointed. "Well, that's okay. Let's head back downstairs."

They went back down the stairs, and the sound of chopping and sizzling greeted them. Aoba could smell garlic, making his stomach rumble. He had eaten lunch thanks to Clear's generous donation of prepared food, but that didn't stop his body from craving more.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" Clear's mother asked.

"I do," Aoba said, honestly meaning it. "But I have to go to work this evening, so I should go home now."

"Oh, what a shame. Next time, then."

"Sure," Aoba replied. He really did hope there would be a next time.

"I'll drive you home, Aoba-san," Clear volunteered.

"Huh?" Aoba was slightly flabbergasted. "You can drive?" Aoba had never seen him drive anywhere before; Clear had never even mentioned it until now.

"Yep! But I don't have a car. I only use my mother's car when she doesn't need it."

Aoba supposed that made sense, but it did make him feel inadequate that he didn't even have his learner's permit yet. Tae didn't drive, either, and it wasn't like Aoba had parents to teach him, so it had never occurred to him to learn.

While Clear went to track down the car keys, Clear's mother approached Aoba. He worried that she was about to take this opportunity to give him a subtle suggestion to leave her son alone; he was always prepared for the worst possible outcome, despite her body language not indicating anything negative.

"Um, thank you for having me over," Aoba said, stumbling through the words, trying to coax her into viewing him favourably.

Clear's mother smiled, putting her hand on Aoba's arm. "You are always welcome here, Aoba-san. I appreciate how much you mean to Clear. I haven't seen him smile this much in a long time." She paused. "Well, Clear is always smiling, but he has seemed more genuine about it lately."

"T-Thank you," was all Aoba could muster in reply.

She approved of their relationship? Really? Aoba had been so nervous to meet her that he had expected the worst; he had never thought that he would be accepted by her. It was a nice feeling, being told by a woman in a fleece pullover that he was always welcome in her home. He hadn't considered how much it would mean to him.

Clear's mother came outside with them so she could wave goodbye as they drove away. Aoba sort of wished she hadn't, because Clear insisted on holding the passenger side door open for him like a true gentleman, and Aoba had no choice but to play along. He couldn't tell Clear off in front of his mother!

As they drove away, Aoba gradually became more comfortable. He was glad to finally be truly alone with Clear.

"You know, I'm kinda surprised that you can drive," he said, trying to prompt conversation.

"Oh? Are you impressed, Aoba-san?" Clear sounded amused.

Aoba looked over at Clear, who had his eyes focused on the road. It was cheesy to admit it, so Aoba kept it to himself, but he thought Clear looked really cool. Even thinking the words was almost too much; Aoba couldn't stop himself from cringing internally. He could never say something like that to Clear!

"No, I'm not," Aoba grumbled, embarrassed despite not having actually said anything embarrassing. "I mean, I didn't know you'd be able to drive, because of...your hearing." He felt like he shouldn't have said that, like it was impolite.

Clear hummed in thought. "You have a point; I'm supposed to have a hearing aid. But as long as I pay attention, it should be fine to drive a short distance."

Aoba took the hint and stopped talking. It was only a ten-minute drive, and Clear was taking the main roads. That didn't mean that Aoba wasn't going to worry about his safety after he dropped him off, though. He let his mind wander instead. He wondered if, when Clear got a new hearing aid, they would be able to take road trips together. He imagined the two of them visiting places Aoba had never been before (which was most places; again, nobody in his family could drive, and bus tickets were expensive). He realized that he wanted to spend a long time with Clear; maybe even the rest of his life. The fact that they had only known each other for a few months didn't register as a factor. It felt like it had been much, much longer.

Aoba was pulled out of his reverie when he realized that Clear was turning down his street. Rather than heading towards the driveway, he stopped the car a short distance from Aoba's house.

"I'll pull up closer in a moment," Clear explained. "I just didn't want Tae-san to see anything."

"What do you mean?" Aoba asked, despite having an idea.

Clear unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to face Aoba, gently placing his hand on Aoba's cheek. Aoba could feel his heartbeat thudding in his chest as Clear leaned in closer.

"I've been waiting to do this all day," Clear whispered, tilting Aoba's chin so their lips could meet.

Aoba sighed through his nose as he parted his lips against Clear's. He had wanted to kiss Clear, too, but he hadn't wanted to do anything inappropriate while Clear's mother was present. Not that they hadn't already done worse things in Clear's home… Regardless, he had been starving for any kind of contact, so to be able to kiss Clear like this was blissful.

Aoba's arms involuntarily hugged Clear closer; he felt strange, like his body was here but his spirit was somewhere else. He blindly fumbled to undo his own seatbelt so he could turn his body to face Clear fully. He wished they had more time, and that they weren't stuck in such a cramped, public place.

Eventually, Clear pulled back, leaving them both equally flustered and hungry for more. Aoba would have to wait a minute for his erection to go away before he went inside his house; he didn't think he needed to explain this to Clear, though.

As they sat in silence, Clear reached a finger out to tuck a strand of hair behind Aoba's ear for him. Aoba felt his own mouth open, and his tongue moved without his influence.

"I-I love you," he said, frantic for some reason. He heard the words as they left his mouth, but didn't do anything to stop them.

"Aoba-san…" Clear gasped. "Do you, really?"

Aoba pondered that. Did he, really? Or had the words just come out on their own? It felt like someone else had used his voice to say them. Where had they come from? He wouldn't have said them so passionately if he hadn't intended to say them, right?

"Yes, I do," he said with shaky confidence.

Clear kissed him again, hard, but only for a moment. He then rested his forehead against Aoba's, breathing unsteadily.

"That means a lot, Aoba-san," he whispered. "You have no idea." His voice was thick; Aoba wondered if he was about to cry.

Aoba realized that he really did love Clear; although he hadn't meant to let it slip out, he couldn't ignore the way he felt. He couldn't pretend that his heart hadn't already decided that he was going to stay with Clear for as long as he could. It was painful, but he said goodbye to Clear, preparing himself for another long shift. He couldn't wait to quit his second job and return to school as soon as possible; maybe then, he wouldn't have to wait so long to see Clear again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter had a lot of parallels to the last one... i swear i didn't do it out of laziness!!
> 
> i think we're looking at 3 or 4 more chapters after this one. i can say with confidence that this is gonna be my last kuriao fic, so i'm gonna try to give them the best send-off i can!!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sei comes home!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is kind of short but there just wasn't that much to say for this one!

The day had come: Sei was coming home from the hospital! Aoba was ecstatic to see his brother laughing and smiling. His pale cheeks had more colour in them lately, and although he had obviously not fully recovered, he was looking much better. Perhaps his health scare had done some good; it had forced their hand, and they had no choice but to put him in the hospital, which led to his speedier recovery. Despite his increasing level of health, however, Sei still didn't have the strength to walk all the way out of the hospital, so they had to put him in a wheelchair. It didn't make it feel like any less of a victory to wheel him out of his hospital room, though.

"Do you have everything you need, Sei-san?" Clear asked, holding a backpack containing some of Sei's most important belongings. Aoba had been so wrapped up in his joy that he had forgotten Clear was there; he had benevolently offered to drive Aoba and his family home after Sei was discharged so they didn't need to pay for a cab.

"Yes, that's everything. Thank you, Clear," Sei said. Aoba was still amazed at how much stronger his voice sounded.

Unfortunately, this wouldn't be the last time Sei would have to go to the hospital. He would need to go back for treatments, but as an outpatient from now on, but that would be much more affordable for them. Also, Clear had volunteered to drive them whenever he could, so they could save money on transportation. 

When they got home, Aoba prepared to help his granny get Sei up the stairs. Clear offered to take Tae's place, and Tae had actually agreed, which suggested that she trusted Clear more than she let on. Either that, or she didn't feel like injuring her back.

Sei's footing was pretty steady for a waifish young man with a formerly-life-threatening illness. It definitely wasn't so life-threatening anymore; once he was upstairs, he walked all the way to his bedroom without any support. Sei stood in the doorway, and Aoba stood next to him, looking him face-to-face. When was the last time he had stood next to his brother like this? Carefully, Aoba wrapped his arms around Sei and gently hugged him. Sei hugged him back, squeezing Aoba somewhat weakly.

"I'm glad you're home," Aoba whispered. He knew his voice sounded thick; it took a lot of effort to hold his tears back.

"Me, too," Sei whispered back.

Sei then said that he needed to rest for a while; the trip had taken a lot out of him, and he had been so excited to come home that he hadn't slept much the night before. Aoba pestered Tae to do the same, since she had taken the day off from work. Tae resisted a bit but gave in pretty quickly, going upstairs to take a nap. She needed it.

"You should rest, too, Aoba-san," Clear suggested. "I'll start making dinner. Please, try to take a nap."

Like Tae, Aoba tried to argue; he rarely had a whole day off with Clear, and he didn't want to waste it sleeping. That being said, he was quite fatigued, so he eventually relented and headed to his bedroom. He considered inviting Clear to come with him, but he knew Clear would refuse, so he didn't bother.

As he tried to fall asleep, he remembered that he was going to look into returning to school as soon as Sei was discharged. Well, Sei was officially back in his own bedroom, so Aoba decided to log into his school email and try to contact his professors. It wouldn't hurt to check, anyway, even if he didn't email them right now. He was shocked to find that he had quite a few recent emails from his professors. Were they about his absences?

"Aoba, thank you for the wonderful essay! You have received a grade of 85 on this assignment," the first email read.

Huh? What essay?

He tapped on the next email. It read, "Seragaki, I have attached my comments on your short essay. You have received a B."

What?

"For your reading assignment, you receive a 79."

How…?

"Your essay was a joy to read! A+"

_ HUH?!? _

Aoba snatched his phone, eager to get some answers. He decided to start by asking his closest friends and classmates if they knew what was going on. 

"Dude wtf I'm getting feedback for assignments I never did," he texted to Koujaku.

"No, I'm not doing this anymore. I'm staying out of it!!" Koujaku replied. Huh? What did he mean by that? He figured it wasn't worth asking Koujaku anything else if he was going to keep his mouth so firmly shut.

He texted Noiz instead, asking, "Do you know anything about my assignments? I got some feedback for things I never did."

"Dude c'mon think about it," Noiz sent in response. That wasn't helpful.

"What do you mean? Koujaku wouldn't tell me either," he responded. He waited a few minutes, but no reply came from Noiz. As a last-ditch effort, he texted Mizuki, but he doubted he would get any information from him.

"Has someone been submitting assignments for me?" He asked, not expecting much of a response.

Mizuki texted back quickly. "Yeah, it's Clear. He said he didn't want you to flunk out, so he signed your name on the attendance and did your assignments for you. He even did assignments for you from classes he isn't in! Didn't he tell you?"

Wow. That was surprisingly easy! Aoba made a mental note to never share sensitive information with Mizuki without strict instruction to keep it secret.

Aoba set his phone down and sighed, rubbing his temples. No point in trying to take a nap now! He couldn't believe Clear had done that; not only had he committed an academic crime, but he had kept it a secret all this time. Aoba couldn't be entirely mad at him for it, because Clear had saved him from the hassle of making up for his negligence, but he was still irritated that Clear had risked getting them both in trouble. At least Clear had submitted work of varying quality; that was pretty realistic for Aoba.

He tiptoed out of his room and crept downstairs with the intention of sneaking up on Clear. He watched Clear from a distance for a moment. Clear was chopping some celery and carrots and putting them in a big pot. Was he making soup? Aoba hoped it was chicken noodle, or maybe chicken and rice. Vegetable soup would be nice, too, though… Aoba shook his head, trying not to get distracted by the promise of soup. He was going to confront him!

He  _ was  _ going to confront him, but Clear started humming to himself, capturing Aoba's attention. The song sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it yet. He felt like he could figure it out if he listened to it for a while. If he stood around any longer, though, Clear might notice him, so he decided to pounce.

"Clear, have you been doing my homework for me?" He asked, bluntly. No better way to alert Clear to his presence than being upfront.

Clear froze, holding his knife in mid-air. He spun around and looked at Aoba like a frightened cat. Then he noticed the threatening nature of the knife in his hand and placed it on the counter.

"Um… W-Well, you see…" He stammered for a moment. "I may have been doing some extra work on your behalf, yes."

"Why would you do that?" Aoba crossed his arms and glowered at Clear, feeling a rage start to bubble. 

"I was worried that you would fail your classes and have to retake them. Also, that was when you weren't talking to me, and I wanted to help you however I could," Clear explained.

"You risked getting us both expelled so I wouldn't have to repeat a year of school?" Aoba walked closer, hands curling into fists.

Clear audibly gulped. "Y-Yes, Aoba-san."

What an absolute dumbass. What an irresponsible imbecile. How could someone be so stupid and so… sweet? He really went to all that trouble to prevent Aoba from falling behind? Aoba felt his rage slowly dissipate. It felt like he was letting Clear off easy, but he knew, deep down, that he didn't want to be angry with Clear. 

He sighed. "Whatever, it's done now. There's no use getting upset about it."

"I'm sorry for doing it without your permission, Aoba-san."

"Just… Don't do it again. I can do my own assignments from now on."

"So, you're coming back to school?" Clear asked. "That's a relief to hear."

"Yeah. And I can take notes for you again, if you want." He paused. "Unless you've replaced me already."

"Mizuki-san has been helping me lately. I don't want to overwork you by having you take notes for me, so you don't need to worry about it."

"No, I want to help. I feel...indebted to you. And I don't like it."

Aoba had always found it difficult to accept help from others. His instincts told him to reject it whenever possible, because it made him feel like a burden. He knew Clear would never think of him that way; Clear was a genuinely sweet person who never expected his actions to be reciprocated. He had overworked himself purely for Aoba's benefit. Based on his reaction to Aoba's confrontation, he had probably never even planned on telling Aoba about what he had done. Regardless, Aoba felt like he owed him something, as if the scales had been tipped too far in one direction. 

Clear smiled. "If you want to help me in return, that's okay. But please, don't do it because you feel obligated."

Aoba pouted. "I feel like our relationship is unbalanced now. You've done so much to help me!"

"You don't owe me anything. I only wanted you to succeed. Anything that I did to help you was only because I love you, and I wanted you to not have to work so hard."

Aoba felt his cheeks heat up. "S-Still. I want to repay you, somehow. More than just taking notes for you."

"Well, if you really want to repay me..." Clear hummed, thinking for a moment. "You could let me take you on a real date."

Aoba blinked. "Huh?"

"We haven't had an actual date yet, have we?"

"W-Well, no, but…"

Now that Aoba thought about it, he realized that he and Clear really hadn't gone on a date; they had hung out at school as friends, and they had had drunk sex, and then sober sex, and then Aoba had met Clear's mother, and they said they loved each other. In all that time, they hadn't just had a normal date. He supposed there was no time like the present.

Clear held his hands out in front of himself, backpedalling after Aoba's long silence. "Of course, I'm only being playful and I do not intend on coercing you into any kind of --"

"No, it's okay. I'll go on a date with you."

"Really? Okay." Clear looked relieved. "What would you like to do?"

"Um, anything, I guess. You pick."

Clear thought for a moment. "Can I cook for you? I haven't made dinner for just the two of us yet, you know. You could come over to my house when my mom isn't home." He paused, hesitating. "But maybe that isn't a real date."

"That sounds like a real date to me. Let's do it."

They settled on a day a few weeks into the future because it was the soonest Aoba was available; he was planning on giving his two weeks' notice to his second job soon, but he hadn't done it yet. He had already decided to give up any shifts that coincided with his classes, though. School was more important than a part-time job, and even after he quit at the restaurant, he would still have his other job to rely on. It would be summer soon, and then Aoba could work two jobs if he wanted to, but he didn't need it for now. He was looking forward to taking a break -- aside from all the schoolwork he would now have to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter's gonna be a real doozy!! (in a good way lol)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all comes back!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so  
1\. this single chapter is almost 7k words i am so sorry  
2\. this chapter contains graphic descriptions of semen. i apologize for this as well  
3\. there are references to the drama cd in this chapter. i mean there are references to the main vn and re:connect too obviously but... also some drama-cd-specific stuff lol
> 
> please enjoy

Despite having already fast-forwarded through the beginning stages of his relationship with Clear, Aoba was anxious for their date. His pulse throbbed in his stomach when he saw Clear pull up in the driveway, but he told himself to calm down; there was nothing to be nervous about. The difficult parts were out of the way already; it wasn't like he was seeing Clear's mother again. This was all stuff he had dealt with before.

It didn't help things that Clear was making Aoba feel like a burden. It was totally unnecessary for Clear to have gone out of his way to pick Aoba up, but he had declared it an important aspect of a "real date" and he felt that Aoba was owed the full experience. Aoba allowed it because he wouldn't have to waste bus fare this way. However, Clear’s chivalry didn’t end there; he got out of his car and met Aoba at the door so he could walk Aoba back to the car, truly sparing no inconvenience for himself. He even held the car door open for Aoba, which Aoba couldn't bring himself to refuse. If Clear was going to incessantly try to impress him, then Aoba would act impressed. It was the least he could do.

As they drove to Clear’s house, Aoba wondered what Clear’s idea of a date was. Would it be stomach-turningly romantic? So far, signs were pointing in the affirmative. He tried to envision the worst in order to prepare himself for it; would Clear have spread rose petals along the floor? Would there be a potentially hazardous number of candles lit? Would he insist on not letting Aoba’s feet touch the floor? Would he have hired a jazz band? Aoba really, _ really _doubted it, but...this was Clear, after all. He figured that Clear would just want to spend time alone with him, but even Clear’s mother had admitted that Clear could get carried away on occasion. 

When they arrived, Aoba was blissfully relieved as Clear led him around the house to the plain-looking backyard.

"I hope you like the decorations," Clear said as Aoba looked around the yard. "I had to put them up by myself, so it isn't much."

There was a picnic table underneath a large tree which had been decorated with fairy lights. Aoba looked closer and noticed that there were twinkling white lights strung along the fence, the shrubs, and draped over the edge of the deck. It was cute to imagine Clear dragging a ladder out and putting all the lights up in anticipation of their date.

“It’s nice,” Aoba admitted.

Clear smiled. “Please, sit down. I will be back out momentarily.

Aoba sat down at the picnic table. Clear kissed the top of his head and then went inside with the promise of a swift return. What had he cooked, Aoba wondered? He hoped it was something warm; the evening air was chilly. Maybe it was soup, again? Clear knew how to make several different kinds of soup, and all of them were fantastic. He had brought mushroom soup in exchange for Aoba’s notes last week, and it was so delicious that Aoba had been up all night thinking about it. Clear had used fancy mushrooms and the broth was made with cream, and he had given Aoba some bread to dip in it. It was so good...

Aoba had been distracted by thoughts of food and hadn't heard Clear approach, so he jumped in his seat when a swath of fabric was wrapped around him. He looked at the table and saw that Clear had already set it. How long had he been thinking about soup for?

"Here, Aoba-san,” Clear said, patting Aoba’s shoulder. “I brought this for you in case you were cold."

Aoba looked down at himself, seeing that Clear had covered him in a large, white trench coat. Clear then coiled something around Aoba's neck -- a scarf? A green scarf. The combination of the garments made Aoba envision Clear wearing them for a moment, holding something up over his head… An umbrella, it was an umbrella. But why couldn't Aoba see his face? Was something covering it up? It didn't matter; the vision slipped away as soon as it came.

On the table in front of him was a little round scoop of rice in a bowl. A small crock pot sat on a potholder in the middle of the table. Steam rose from under the lid, indicating to Aoba that the contents were hot. Good!

Clear took the lid off the little pot, and Aoba could smell beef, vegetables, and various spices… Clear had made beef stew. Oh, man, Aoba _ loved _ beef stew! Aoba could hardly wait to take a bite once Clear had dished some out for him, but he was committed to politeness; he would _ not _eat before Clear was ready, too!

Aoba swore he could hear elegant piano music once the first bite hit his tongue. The texture was perfect; the little bit of celery Clear had added gave it the right consistency. Aoba took another spoonful with a big chunk of meat, and it was so delicious that he almost came. How was Clear _ so _good at cooking? How had he known how to make Aoba’s favourite stew so perfectly? It must have been fate, Aoba told himself; there was no way this had been an accident. Or, maybe, Clear had just asked someone about it. Either option seemed likely.

Aoba heard Clear chuckle, so he reined in the enthusiastic shovelling of stew into his mouth. He put his spoon down and swallowed the bite.

"This is good," he understated.

Clear smiled. "It's your favourite, isn't it?"

Aoba chuckled. "Yes, clearly! Did you ask Koujaku about it? He'd be the only one to know that."

Clear's lips started to form a word, but he stopped partway, staring vacantly at the table. His smile faded, leaving him looking confused. "No, I didn't ask Koujaku-san. I just...knew that? I knew that about you, already?"

"I definitely never told you that,” Aoba said, cautious. Clear seemed somewhat shaken. “I know I didn't."

"I know," Clear muttered, still partially absent. "How did I know that?"

"Lucky guess?" Aoba offered.

Clear looked up; his eyes bored into Aoba's. Something stopped Aoba from breaking the intense eye contact. Somewhere, in Clear's eyes, was an answer. Was he omnipotent? Could he read Aoba's mind? That couldn't have been it; if Clear had been reading Aoba's mind this whole time, then they would have skipped a lot of petty conflict.

As he stared at Clear, Aoba saw him again, distantly, in a white coat, and...gloves. And a gas mask?

They fell silent for a moment, breaking eye contact as they returned their attention to the stew. After a while, Aoba heard something, and he was sure he wasn't imagining it this time. He looked around, searching the backyard for the source, until he realized it was coming from Clear; he was humming something very softly. He probably didn't realize he was doing it.

Oh, wait, the song! It was the same song that he had been humming when he was making soup! Damn, that soup had been good… Aoba cast the delicious soup memories from his brain and paid attention to the song. The melody was _ so _familiar.

"What are you humming?" Aoba asked, softly, so as not to startle him too much.

Clear glanced up at Aoba, looking confused for a moment before realizing. "Oh, I'm sorry; I must have let my mind wander. Was it bothering you?"

"No, I was just curious," Aoba assured. "What song is that? It sounds so familiar."

Clear shrugged. "I'm not sure, actually. I must have made it up. It always makes me feel calm, though."

Aoba frowned. "You made it up? Then how come I know it?"

"Perhaps it sounds similar to another song?" Clear suggested.

That couldn't have been right. There was no way! Clear had known about the stew, and now Aoba recognized Clear's secret song? Aoba _ knew _that song! He knew it was important; he just couldn’t put his finger on why.

What was so important about it? What was the song about? Aoba could almost remember the lyrics. It was on the tip of his tongue... Something… swaying? Shimmering? It was something like that, right? It had something to do with Clear, too, didn't it? There was a connection… to his name, maybe?

Aoba remembered Clear's childhood drawing on the wall outside the kitchen; he remembered studying the crayon shape, mesmerized by its wry smile. That was it!

"Jellyfish!" Aoba shouted as it suddenly occurred to him.

Clear looked at him with his jaw hanging open for a moment. "Huh?" He must have been thinking that Aoba had lost his mind.

"The song! It was about jellyfish!"

Aoba's heart raced in his chest. How did it go again? The rest of the lyrics... Aoba was starting to recall them. Where had he heard it? Somehow, he could hear it being sung by Clear; but he had never heard Clear sing, had he?

...Had he?

His mind was screaming at him, begging him to do something, to remember something… Something about that song; something about Clear…?

The leaves, which had been gently swaying in the breeze, froze. Aoba heard his own voice, distantly, call Clear's name. He felt a punch in his gut; he felt terrified. He saw Clear with a knife in his hand.

Aoba saw it all, now; he saw Clear in Oval Tower, stabbing his own keylock, singing that song to destroy his brothers.

He saw Clear falling apart underneath him as he tried to make his dying moments worthwhile. He felt the touch of his cold, metallic fingers on his bare skin.

He saw the coy smile on Clear's face as he waited for him on a neighbouring rooftop. He felt the same shock, now, as he saw the same person staring back at him. 

Decades of old feelings bubbled to the surface; another part of himself awakened. He knew who he was -- who he had been. In a split second, all of this erupted inside of him; he looked at Clear and met his gaze, realizing that Clear, his Clear, was in front of him. Again.

"C-Clear," Aoba whispered. He stood up from the bench, palms flat on the table. His legs were shaking. "Clear!"

Clear was startled by Aoba's sudden movement. "Aoba-san?"

Aoba felt panicked; his palms began to sweat.

"No, I mean... Clear!" he repeated, gesturing vaguely between the two of them. "Clear, come on…" He felt his eyes getting wet. "Come on, don't you remember me?"

Clear blinked, clueless. "Are you alright?"

Aoba had no idea how to communicate what he was feeling. He couldn’t just tell Clear that he remembered him from a previous life; he needed to make Clear realize, too. If he couldn’t, then...

"I can't even do the thing with my voice anymore," Aoba muttered, frustrated, as he slumped back into his chair. If he could use Scrap, still, then maybe he could force Clear to come to a realization, but in this new body, he didn’t have the ability. He looked into Clear's curious eyes, wishing he could explain it to him. How could he possibly explain this? How could he find the words? 

What would he do if Clear couldn't remember him?

"Are you feeling alright?" Clear asked again.

"T-The glass stuff in your room," Aoba said, feeling teardrops spilling over. "It's because of your grandpa. Don't you remember him? He saved you!"

"My grandpa? I've never known my grandparents… What are you talking about?"

"Clear, please, I know you remember a little bit," Aoba pleaded.

"Remember what, Aoba-san?"

"Y-You were an android!"

Clear's brows knit together. "I… What?"

"You were a machine and I was a human! You...broke in front of me. But you came back."

Clear's eyes widened, filling with tears. He still hadn't spoken.

"And I learned how to fix you, eventually, and I got old, and I tried to make you look the same way… But I couldn't change your insides to be like mine, and…"

Clear looked at Aoba silently; his breaths began to shudder as the tears in his eyes overflowed.

"A-Aoba...san…" Clear said Aoba's name, softly. The words sounded like they held more weight to them than they might have normally.

"But we don't have to worry about all that now, because…"

"I'm...human. Just like you."

"Yes. You are." Aoba felt a smile reach his lips despite his overflowing tears. He could tell that Clear knew what he was talking about, now.

Clear's eyes were wide as he looked around himself in disbelief. He gawked at Aoba as it all occurred to him; he was here, and Aoba was here, and they had been given a second chance. This time, however...

"I'm human…" Clear repeated. He took in a ragged, shuddering breath, suppressing a sob. "Aoba-san, I'm a human…!"

"Yes, you're --"

"I'm a human!" Clear shouted, overcome with emotion. "I'm just like Aoba-san!"

Clear's voice echoed in the backyard, making Aoba worry. "Uh, we're outside, people can hear you --"

Clear stood up from the table, pacing around the yard with his hands on his head, as if his mind was unable to comprehend what was happening. Aoba stood, too, and watched Clear's frantic movements, hesitant to approach him too closely.

"Aoba-san, I'm totally normal!" Clear cried, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

"I-I wouldn't go that far," Aoba awkwardly joked, taken aback at Clear's intensity.

"You don't understand!" Clear grabbed Aoba by the shoulders. "I have bones and a brain and a real heart! If I stabbed myself in the head again, I would permanently die!"

"And that makes you...happy?" Aoba said, chuckling, happy to watch Clear realize that his biggest wish was coming true.

"Yes! Of course it does; I can be with you, and I don't have to watch you slowly...fade away…" His volume decreased and he pulled Aoba in closer, enfolding him in his arms. "We can grow old together. We can be a normal couple."

"Yeah."

"Oh, Aoba-san… It's you! It's really you! You're here again," Clear said, not suppressing his sobs anymore. He squeezed Aoba with all his might — which was, thankfully, no longer enough to snap him in half.

"I'm here." Aoba let his own composure slip, hiding his tears in the crook of Clear's neck. "And you're here, too."

“I’m happy to be with you again, even if it is different this time,” Clear whispered, sniffling. “I don’t care that this body of mine is flawed. I don’t care that I no longer have the ability to hear like I used to. As long as I can still hear Aoba-san’s voice above anything else, I’ll be happy. That’s all I need.”

Oh, right. Aoba hadn’t even thought of that. Clear’s former body was capable of so much more than the body of a human. His hearing, especially, could detect small noises from a great distance. Now that Clear remembered the power he used to possess, would he miss it? 

Aoba looked up at him, searching his face for any indication of regret. He didn’t find any. He saw both the Clear he knew and the Clear he met a few months ago. He saw the man who died for him and the man who fell in love with him for the second time. These two people existed in the same body; there was no way that Clear felt that any part of him was missing.

"Let's go inside," Clear suggested. "I can clean the dishes up later. I want to be close to you."

“O-Okay,” Aoba relented, feeling a similar desire.

Aoba felt his knees start to weaken as he followed Clear past the sliding glass door. The last time he and Clear had been...close to each other… Well, it had only been a few weeks ago, right? But it had also been many, many decades ago, before Aoba had become too old and feeble. The conflicting memories didn't make sense in his head; which part of him wanted what? How much would seem different, now that he knew?

Clear led him to the sofa, then went upstairs, saying he needed to go get something. Aoba had an inkling that he knew what Clear was fetching from his bedroom. After a minute, he came back down; Aoba noticed that his cheeks were slightly flushed, which further solidified Aoba’s suspicion. 

He sat down next to Aoba, floundering for words. Aoba watched him for a moment, somewhat amused that Clear was so uncharacteristically unable to speak. He tried to start a sentence several times, but never got further than a few nondescript words. Seemingly giving up on verbal communication, Clear grabbed Aoba by the waist and pulled him in closer. He let their breaths mingle together for a suspenseful second before finally pressing their lips together. 

They had obviously kissed before, many times, but this was something entirely different. Two separate, yet simultaneous parts of Aoba’s brain reacted in different ways. One part of him was excited at the new depth of their relationship, and was eager to find out what Clear had in mind for them tonight; he knew that Clear hadn’t only planned on feeding him dinner. The other part of him felt a longing for Clear, the one who kissed him for the first time outside of Glitter. This was the first time they had kissed since he had passed away, and he didn’t like that it felt like something had changed. He knew that this was the same man with him now, but there was a part of him that wished he could go back, and that things were the same. But things were better now; it was different, but it had to be better.

In comparison to his mind, Aoba’s body responded in a unified manner. Despite the differences between android Clear and human Clear, he still looked the same; the only physical difference Aoba could notice was that his body temperature was warm. The older, quieter part of Aoba didn’t offer any resistance in this regard. It wouldn’t take him any time for his body to adjust to the presence of his memories; if anything, it only deepened his desire for Clear. His head spun as he recalled memory after memory of Clear hijacking Aoba to the privacy of the house he used to share with his grandfather, or sneaking into Aoba’s bedroom from the balcony in the middle of the night. This felt the same; they were in the living room, and the front curtains weren’t even closed all the way.

Clear broke away from him, panting and looking at him with hazy eyes. He lifted one of Aoba’s hands and guided it to the centre of his chest, holding it flat against himself.

“Do you feel that, Aoba-san?” Clear asked. “That’s my heartbeat. Not a simulated heartbeat, but a real heartbeat, from a real heart.”

Aoba felt Clear’s rapid pulse thumping beneath his palm. He took Clear’s hand and drew it to his own chest.

“Mine is the same,” he whispered as he leaned in to kiss Clear again, once, softly.

“Do you notice anything else different about me, now?” Clear asked.

“Yes. You’re a lot warmer than you used to be,” Aoba said as he nuzzled his forehead against Clear's. "There are some things I will miss about you being an android, though."

"What?” Clear shifted back so he could see Aoba’s face. “Really?"

"Yeah," Aoba said. "I'll have to get used to you not having super-strength anymore. You probably can't hold me up as easily, now."

Clear frowned. "But you always hated being carried around."

"I didn't necessarily mean when you _ carried _me…"

Aoba remembered the times when they were so caught up in each other that they couldn't make it to the bedroom; they found that the best option was to have Clear hold him up against the wall. He never faltered at the strain of supporting Aoba's body weight, even when he was otherwise occupied. The physical feats he used to be able to perform were incredible! Aoba recalled one time in particular, after they had just had a heavy discussion about Clear being put in an Alpha body; Aoba's feet had hardly touched the floor the entire time.

Clear sputtered for a moment as he, too, recalled the events to which Aoba was referring. "I-I can start lifting weights."

Aoba chuckled. "I'm just kidding. I might miss jumping on rooftops with you, though. It was scary, but I knew you'd never drop me."

"I could still do that!" Clear argued.

"Not a chance," Aoba said, shaking his head. "You have bones now!"

"Aoba-san…" Clear whined with a pout. "Did you prefer me as an android?"

"No. You know why?" Aoba asked as he dragged his finger down to Clear's belt.

Clear eyed him warily. "Why?"

"You know what else is different, now?" Aoba slowly shifted down on the couch, trailing kisses down the front of Clear's shirt.

"W-What, Aoba-san…?"

"I know that what we're feeling is exactly the same." He nuzzled his nose against the fly of Clear's pants. "And the stuff that comes out is real, now. I definitely prefer it that way."

Clear made a choking sound. "The thing you like most about me being human is that...my ejaculate is normal now?"

Aoba snorted. "No, there are more important things. But I am looking forward to that part. Now that I remember what it was like before, I mean."

Clear seemed overwhelmed at the implications of Aoba’s statement. He took a moment to collect himself.

“T-That’s...fine, Aoba-san.”

Aoba didn’t hesitate; he undid Clear’s pants and reached in, pulling his cock out. He remembered the first time he had been here, the first time he had held Clear like this. He tried to cast the memories out of his head, but he knew that they would always linger. It would make it easier if he focused on the present, though; he was about to get started, but Clear interrupted him by gently grabbing his jaw and lifting it away from him.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Clear explained.

“Oh, really?” Aoba asked, surprised that Clear would be hesitant at a time like this.

"Well, you can still do that if you want, but…” He paused. “I want you to come up here, Aoba-san," Clear said, gesturing to his own head.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Take your clothes off and sit on my face."

"Wha--" Aoba felt his face flare red. "Y-You don't need to be so blunt!"

"You asked for clarification."

"B-But… Still! I told you a long time ago to not be so descriptive.”

"Are you willing to do what I asked? I would really like to --"

"Don't say it!” Aoba barked, cutting him off. “I'm doing it."

Aoba stood from the couch and shuffled out of his clothes. This wasn’t the first time Clear had requested this, but it still took a bit of courage for Aoba to get into position. Something about this had always appealed to him, though he would never admit it. Perhaps it was because Clear couldn’t see his face; it was easier for him to let his guard down when he didn’t have to look him in the eye.

Once again, Aoba was inches from Clear’s cock, albeit from a different angle. Despite no longer being a creation of Toue, the appearance of his body had not changed in a significant way, for which Aoba was truly grateful. He wasn’t sure if he would have been able to cope if he had noticed that his cock was smaller than it used to be, now that he remembered it.

"It really is exactly how it used to be. Isn't that strange?" Aoba asked, seriously studying the curve of Clear's cock. The only difference was that Aoba knew for sure what Clear was feeling when he squeezed his hand around him.

"You look identical, too, Aoba-san,” Clear said, sinking his fingers into Aoba’s hips to pull him closer. “At least, as much as I remember; the last time I saw you, you were an old man."

Aoba chuckled at Clear's bluntness. "Are you glad I'm young again?"

"I never found you any less attractive as you got older. But I will admit, I'm glad that we match now."

"You still wanted to fuck me when I was old?" Aoba grimaced. 

"Of course. You know my love for you is unconditional, Aoba-san." Clear punctuated his statement with a gentle kiss against Aoba’s skin.

Aoba believed him; based on the amount of time they had spent together, he knew that Clear truly was smitten with him regardless of the circumstances. Still… Clear had _ really _ been attracted to him then? Gross.

"Will you not be attracted to me when I'm old?" Clear asked, turning Aoba's logic around on him.

"O-Of course, I will be!" Aoba rebutted, although he was curious as to what Clear would truly look like as an old man. As he had promised during the time when Clear's malfunctions led to him being put in an Alpha body, Aoba had learned how to adjust Clear's skin and make him look aged. However, that had been Aoba's doing, and he wondered what Clear would look like naturally.

But Aoba didn't want to worry about the future right now; instead, he focused on what was in front of him. He grabbed Clear’s cock by the base, again, and waited to see if Clear would protest. He heard no complaints, so he slipped the head past his lips.

Clear roughly tugged Aoba’s hips back as far as he could, laving his tongue over Aoba’s perineum. He spread Aoba open slightly with his thumbs and slid his tongue further up, swirling it around his hole without penetrating him. Aoba flinched when Clear, without warning, slipped his tongue inside. He cursed his body for having such fond memories of this; he couldn’t resist leaning his hips back against Clear’s mouth as he opened him up.

Unwilling to be outdone, Aoba stuffed as much of Clear’s cock in his mouth as he could manage, sucking on him hard. Clear moaned in surprise and briefly faltered. However, Aoba’s actions merely egged him on further; he slid the tips of his index fingers in alongside his tongue, spreading Aoba wider.

Aoba blindly fumbled in Clear’s pockets until he found the small bottle of lube that he knew Clear had slipped in there earlier. Wordlessly, he handed it to Clear. It appeared that Clear didn’t need further instructions. He took his tongue out, replacing it with two of his lubed-up fingers. A moment later, he started to mouth at Aoba again, but he changed his angle; he moved further until he reached his cock, taking it into his mouth. 

Aoba froze in his movements, distracted by Clear’s relentless attack. Wasn’t Aoba the one who had initiated this? He couldn’t let Clear overwhelm him; he had a goal to accomplish. He relied on every memory he had in order to make Clear lose control. He remembered how much pressure to use, and where to focus his attention the most, and what to do with his hands. He didn’t hide his own excitement for what was to come; he knew Clear preferred it when he was especially vocal, so he didn’t make any effort to be quiet.

Clear's fingernails dug into Aoba's hips. His fingers had stilled and he wasn't stimulating Aoba with his tongue anymore, but Aoba didn't mind. His attention was fully encompassed by a single goal; he wanted Clear to come in his mouth. After years and years of swallowing the same lukewarm, flavourless substance, he wanted to finally taste Clear's come. He didn't even care if he came, himself, although he was certain that Clear would take care of him later.

Clear cried out, unintentionally driving his hips up against Aoba’s mouth. Aoba held his breath in anticipation. A second later, his mouth was flooded with something hot, and viscous, and bitter, and somewhat salty; it wasn’t delicious by any means, but it was Clear’s. It had come from his body. It wasn’t the flavourless, thin liquid manufactured by Toue. For the first time in all their time together, he was actually tasting Clear’s come, and he really, really didn’t hate it.

“I’m sorry, Aoba-san,” Clear said weakly. “I hope it was okay.”

“Don’t apologize,” Aoba murmured as he licked what remained off his lips. “I’m the one that wanted it.”

“Still, I’m sorry if it was unpleasant.” Clear softly kissed Aoba’s hip. “Can you please turn around?”

“S-Sure,” Aoba relented, acutely aware that he hadn’t come yet. He lifted himself up on his wobbly legs and turned around. He wound up sitting on Clear’s cock, which should have been going soft by now, but…

“What is it, Aoba-san?” Clear asked, seeing Aoba’s somewhat shocked expression.

"I can't believe it," Aoba whispered in astonishment. "You're still hard after that? Shouldn't your stamina be normal, now that you're a human? It was normal last time, wasn’t it?”

"It's different, now that I know it's you," Clear murmured. He held Aoba's hips and grinded up against his ass. "I know I haven’t satisfied you yet. Please, Aoba-san, can I…?"

Aoba stuttered for a second, flustered that Clear had asked for something like that so politely. "Y-Yeah, you can go ahead…"

Clear stood up and shrugged out of his clothes. He spread his shirt out on the couch in front of Aoba and sat behind him this time.

“I hope you don’t mind doing it like this,” he said, wrapping his arms around Aoba from behind.

“I-It’s fine,” Aoba said, stammering as Clear started to kiss his neck.

“Do you think you’re ready, or should I…” Clear hesitated. “Well, I know you don’t want me to say it, but…”

Aoba was grateful for Clear’s rare show of discretion. “I think I should be fine now.”

He broke away from Clear’s hold and lowered himself to the couch while keeping his hips raised, making sure he was squarely above Clear’s shirt. Aoba definitely couldn’t afford to have this couch professionally cleaned. 

“You can hold on to this,” Clear offered, placing a throw pillow in front of Aoba. “I bought it, so it’s okay if it gets dirty.”

Aoba put the pillow under his chest to provide a better cushion between himself and the couch. His lower back would thank him for this.

“I’m going to put it in now, Aoba-san,” Clear murmured. He rubbed the slick head against Aoba’s hole for a moment before starting to push in.

Aoba hugged the fluffy throw pillow, muffling his stuttered groans against it as Clear pushed in further and further. He wiggled his hips back as he adjusted to the feeling, which was familiar but also new. This was only the second time Clear had been inside him, after all.

“Are you alright?” Clear asked, softly, after a minute.

“Y-Yeah,” Aoba said, nodding in case Clear couldn’t hear his muffled voice. 

Clear seemed to have heard him just fine; he gripped Aoba’s hips tightly and began to move. Aoba buried his face in the pillow to stifle his feelings of shame as he met Clear’s rhythm, bumping his hips back against him. There was nothing shameful about his actions, really, but it was difficult to swallow that. He knew that he and Clear had spent almost fifty monogamous years together, but he also knew that Clear was someone he had only met a few months ago, so it felt more than a little bit filthy to be doing this on his mother’s couch. 

He tried to block out the conflicting thoughts and just focus on what Clear was doing to him; after a while, it became easier to do, especially once Clear reached around and started to stroke his cock in time with his thrusts. His thoughts were unable to stand up against that amount of competition.

"Does it feel different than it used to?" Clear asked, leaning forward so he could speak into Aoba's ear.

"It's the same," Aoba answered, turning his face away from the pillow even though he knew Clear could hear him regardless. "You seemed as human to me back then as you do now."

Aoba received no response from Clear, but he noticed Clear's grip tighten on his hips as he quickened his pace. It seemed like Aoba had told him what he wanted to hear. Aoba hoped Clear understood how honestly he meant it, though; he wasn't saying it with the intention of flattery. Clear had always felt human to him, and that hadn't changed.

It was evident that Clear was getting close; he was losing his rhythm. He took his hand off Aoba's hip and reached for one of his hands, instead, squeezing it and twining their fingers together. Aoba squeezed back. 

Clear drove his hips in once more and held them there as Aoba felt a hot, sticky wetness fill him. He had already felt this once before, but it was more meaningful now that the pieces of his mind had clicked and he had his previous memories for comparison. It was further evidence that Clear wasn't just an approximation of a human, but a real, organic human, like Aoba. He no longer needed to reassure Clear that they were the same because nature had taken over that role, and small things like this would serve as reminders of that fact.

Although it was an emotional moment as Aoba let this realization sink in, he was somewhat embarrassed to discover that he enjoyed this new feeling. Hopefully Clear wouldn't read too much into the connection between what had just occurred and what was now about to occur. Aoba didn't want to be teased for discovering that he liked the feeling of Clear coming inside him -- that would be too much to address verbally. He scrabbled at the pillow in front of him, sinking his nails into the soft fabric as he felt himself lose control, too; he only hoped that he had managed to come on Clear's shirt and not on the couch.

After a moment, Clear helped Aoba up and guided him into his lap. He held Aoba there, rubbing circles into his back.

"I love you, Aoba-san," Clear whispered. "Words cannot express how much."

"I-I love you, too," Aoba whispered in response, suddenly bashful. He knew Clear meant it; he knew he _ really _meant it, and it was kind of intimidating. 

Clear pulled Aoba in closer, holding him against his chest, humming softly into his ear. They stayed like that for a while, silently, not yet wanting to get up. Then, Clear spoke.

"I was so lonely without you," Clear whispered, tentatively breaking the silence. "After you...died."

Right. Aoba hadn't thought much about what had happened to Clear after that. Obviously, Clear had died, somehow, or he wouldn't have been reborn as a human.

"What happened, afterwards?" Aoba asked. "What did you do?" He wasn't sure that he wanted the answer.

Clear looked off, distantly. "I really tried, Aoba-san. I know you wanted me to keep on living. But it was so lonely. Everyone was dead."

"Oh, no..." Aoba almost didn't want to hear this, but a sick sense of curiosity prevented him from interjecting.

"I had buried you beside Grandfather. And then I tried to do something, anything, but I couldn't even see what I was doing. I was just wandering in a fog. I think I tried to travel, but it just felt like I was floating aimlessly wherever I went. I wondered, was I really supposed to live like this until my body shut down? I didn't know how long it would take." He paused, then cautiously continued. "So I went to the hill where you and Grandfather were sleeping, dug myself a grave, and cut off my head."

Aoba stared at Clear, unsure if he had heard him right. Clear stared back with a somewhat guilty look in his eyes. Aoba had hoped he was joking, but Clear's expression told him otherwise.

"You really...did that?" Aoba asked, starting to feel queasy.

Clear nodded slowly. "I needed to make sure I would die. I left a note for any passersby to ensure someone buried me. But I truly had no other choice."

Aoba tried to keep the images out of his head, but his brain kept conjuring them. Clear felt that he had no other choice than to decapitate himself? How had he done it? Did he have to hack at his own neck, or was it one clean motion? He imagined someone finding Clear's note, then seeing his crumbling mechanical body at the bottom of an unfilled grave. Aoba felt his stomach lurch as his mind kept supplying him with new images. He couldn't imagine the despair it must have taken to go through with something like that.

"That's...horrible," Aoba said, putting it gently. "I can't believe you did that."

"Are you angry with me?" Clear's voice had a slight tremble in it.

Aoba squeezed his eyes shut, covering them with his palms. "I don't know. I can't stop imagining it. I don't want to think about you destroying yourself like that." He moved his hands away from his eyes and looked at Clear again. "Please, please never do that again. Please."

"I promise I won't. I don't need to, now."

"You didn't need to do it then, either."

Clear smiled sadly. "I'm sorry. I cannot change the past, Aoba-san."

"I know." Aoba wanted desperately for the topic to change, so he latched onto one particular aspect of Clear's statement. "That reminds me…"

"Of what, Aoba-san?"

"That!" Aoba scolded, tapping Clear's lips with his finger. "Stop being so formal! We've been over this."

"Y-You want me to stop calling you 'Aoba-san,'" Clear stated rather than asked. This was inevitable.

"Yes! You stopped last time, eventually."

It had been a bit of an ordeal for Clear, but a few years into their previous relationship, he had mustered up the courage to address Aoba without the honorific, although it had taken him a while to get used to doing it all the time. Aoba had kind of figured that Clear would be over his apprehensions by now. Besides, they were both humans now, and Clear was even a few months older than Aoba; there was absolutely no reason for Clear to feel that Aoba had authority over him. Aside from the decades of perceived subservience, of course.

"I-I can try, Aoba-san," Clear said, contradicting himself already. "But it will take some time to get used to it again."

"Why is it so hard for you, still?"

Clear frowned. "I had always felt that I was inferior to you, because my body always recognized you as my master, regardless of how much you stated otherwise. I never truly felt that we were equals," he explained. "But I realize, now, that we were always the same. I've always had a soul. If I didn't, I wouldn't be here now."

"That's right. So you can admit that we're the same?"

"Yes, Aoba-san. I can admit that now."

"So stop calling me that!" Aoba snapped. How was this such a difficult thing for Clear to grasp?

Clear pursed his lips. "I-It's not that easy!"

"Well, I'm just gonna call you 'Clear-san' until you stop, then, since you can admit that we're equals," Aoba said, raising his chin indignantly. 

"Y-You don't need to do that, Aoba!"

"It's only fair --" Aoba cut himself off. "Huh? Wait, you did it! You said it!"

"What?" Clear's eyes were wide. "Did I, really?"

"Yes!" Aoba grabbed Clear's shoulders in excitement. "You called me 'Aoba!'"

Clear's cheeks started to flush. "I-I didn't mean to!"

Aoba started to shake Clear back and forth. "Do it again!"

"I can't!"

"Please?" Aoba released his grip and looked at Clear with pleading eyes.

Clear was so flustered; Aoba had never seen him this embarrassed. He looked away from Aoba with a scathing frown for a moment, then composed himself and looked him in the eye again.

"A-Aoba." His voice was timid. "I will do my best to address you properly from now on, Aoba."

Aoba remembered the first time Clear had addressed him by his name alone. It had been Aoba's birthday, and Clear had taken him on an extravagant date and saved it until the end. He had built it up to be a big, grand gesture, and it really had meant a lot to Aoba, but then Clear refused to ever do it again. It had taken strenuous effort on Aoba's part to convince him otherwise. Compared to that, Aoba preferred this moment; he preferred that Clear hadn't had a chance to inflate its importance. He preferred Clear to be genuine, rather than giving Aoba what he thought he expected of him.

"Thank you," Aoba said before softly kissing the moles on Clear's chin. He meant it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only one chapter left!!! (i think? lol)
> 
> i didn't NEED to specify that clear lopped his own head off but. idk. it adds character lol


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aoba settles into his new life and looks toward the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m sorry for taking so long to update this.... i don’t know why!! but here it is, it’s just a little conclusion chapter tying up some loose ends.
> 
> enjoy!!

Finally, Aoba was clocking out for the last time at the restaurant. His boss had told him he was welcome back whenever he wanted, which was a sweet gesture, but Aoba still hoped that day never came. He would prefer it if he never set foot in that building again, not even as a customer -- especially after learning that the main cook didn't wear a hairnet.

Besides, his anxieties about his family's financial situation were decreasing, so he didn't feel terrible about giving himself a break from overworking himself. Sei was able to walk without support, now, and he even had the energy to help Aoba get groceries on occasion, which was a welcome change. Aoba had missed spending time with his brother; they hadn't had many opportunities since Sei fell ill. It was difficult to have fun with Sei when he could hardly lift a hand. Now that he was healthier, though, Sei's outlook had become more positive. He was even thinking about enrolling in school next fall.

Sei's passion for school made Aoba want to try his best at it for the short time he had left to endure it. Aoba paid attention in class like a good student should and made sure that he took extra-diligent notes for Clear, making them as legible as possible. He wanted to make sure Clear could succeed, and he wanted to be the one to help him. He hadn't been able to help him before; it was crucial that he did it this time. At present, his wrist was aching as he frantically jotted as much as he could into his notebook.

"You're really scribbling, there," Koujaku noted, watching Aoba furiously transcribe the tail end of the lecture.

"Must...do...good...job," Aoba croaked as he tried desperately to write down everything he had just heard. Clear had missed this class because he had to go to a doctor's appointment; he was going to finally see about getting new hearing aids, which both he and Aoba were thrilled about! But since Clear wasn't in class at all, he wouldn't be able to fill in the gaps in Aoba's notes with what he had absorbed from lip-reading, so Aoba had to ensure they were thorough.

Koujaku chuckled. "You like him that much?"

"Stupid hippo," Aoba grumbled, thinking it was a natural response.

"Why would you call me a...?" Koujaku said, trailing off in thought. Oh, geez. Aoba hoped he hadn't just incited something within him.

"You are a hippo," Noiz piped up. "Big and stupid. But still cute, somehow."

Koujaku perked up. "W-What? Since when do you compliment me in front of other people?"

"You think that's a compliment? You really are stupid," Noiz scoffed. He may have been rude, but Aoba knew he was showing affection in his own way.

It would be for the best if Koujaku and Noiz never regained their memories. Koujaku had a good relationship with his parents, and the only tattoo he had now was a Spongebob Squarepants stick-and-poke Mizuki had given him when they were drunk -- that one was only colloquially cursed. Noiz, too, would gain very little from any past memories; he now had a normal, fully-functioning body with perfectly adequate nerve endings. There was no need for either of them to remember the pain they had suffered. Aoba needed to be more careful with what he said around them in case he accidentally set off a chain of events.

Class was over, so Aoba said goodbye to Koujaku and Noiz. He watched them walk away down the hall for a moment. Noiz must have thought nobody was looking; he shyly reached for Koujaku’s hand and held it, but let go when he saw someone turn the corner towards them. Aoba was glad they had found refuge in each other. He didn’t see any sense in complicating that.

Mizuki had been quiet in class, but he came up behind Aoba, clapping him on the back. “It’s nice to see them together again, huh?” Then he walked away. 

Aoba blinked, flabbergasted, processing what Mizuki had just said. Did… Did Mizuki…? Was that why he had been so eager to nudge Clear and Aoba together? That sly bastard.

The next day, Aoba met Clear at their usual spot in the interim between classes. He scarfed down the meatballs Clear had brought for him while Clear sifted through his notes.

"Wow, these notes are perfect!” He said, beaming, “Thank you so much, Aoba-s -- I mean, uh, Aoba."

"I'm glad," Aoba said. "I wanted to impress you."

"You don't need to try to impress me! You do that just by being yourself."

Despite Clear’s desire to be — in his own words — a man who could support the Seragaki household, Aoba had secretly wanted the same for himself, especially after his repeated inability to fix Clear in any meaningful way. He had improved his technical skills over time, but he had now felt like he needed to make it up to Clear, like he had fallen short before. He would graduate, soon, so he would hopefully be able to get a more stable job and support Clear like Clear had always wanted to do for him.

"I'm just happy that I have another chance to make up for the mistakes I made last time."

"Oh, Aoba…" Clear looked at Aoba with sympathetic eyes. "You didn't make any mistakes. You were a human in love with a robot; it was a weird situation. That's not your fault." 

"I couldn't save you," Aoba said, quietly.

"And I couldn't save you, either."

"Y-You did!" Aoba argued. "You did way more for me than I ever did for you."

"Aoba," Clear chided, taking Aoba's hand and kissing his knuckles. "Don't ever say that. You have no idea how much you've done for me."

Aoba drew his hand back, looking around the empty hill. He still wasn't used to Clear's lack of social inhibitions. He remembered how freely Clear used to speak about things, and how he would try to carry him around in public. He had always wanted to do whatever he could to romance Aoba in the "right way," and this Clear wasn't like that at all. He doubted present-day Clear would have done the apron thing -- and they hadn't even been dating back then!

"S-Sorry, it'll take me some time to adjust to this,” Aoba said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Before you remembered who you used to be, you weren't this...affectionate."

"It's okay; I understand. There are some things I'm not used to, either."

"Oh?" Aoba asked. "Like what?"

"Well, since I've started remembering things, I get confused sometimes," Clear explained. "I realized that I remember Koujaku-san and Noiz-san a little bit. Mizuki-san is the most familiar to me, though."

Aoba knew what Clear was talking about. He remembered Noiz's incessant stalking, and Koujaku's unrequited crush. He thanked God that they had occupied themselves with each other, now. He was pretty sure they had done the same the last time, too; he vaguely remembered catching the two of them in a passionate embrace. Mizuki’s earlier words had provided further support for his theory. Speaking of Mizuki, Aoba also remembered the terror of rescuing Mizuki and entering his mind, only to put him in a coma. Things were so much better now that none of his friends were involved in gang warfare!

"It makes sense that you remember Mizuki the most," Aoba told Clear, not mentioning Mizuki’s implication from the day before. "He was your boss, but also your friend. But they're all your friends, now; don't get too hung up on the past. They're here, right now."

Clear nodded. "Of course. I will not dwell too much on old memories. Any memories I have of them are fuzzy, anyway."

"Me, too. I remember some other people, like my granny, but I don't remember Sei that well. I don't think we were close." He paused. "But that doesn't matter. I may have a lot of memories about you, but I don't know you that well now. So it's the reverse of how I am with everyone else."

Clear held a hand to his chest in a gesture of offense. "You don't think you know me that well?"

"No! I hardly know anything about your family, or what your childhood was like. I don't know what your plans for the future are. You've never felt ashamed of your face or believed that you were less than human. You've lived your whole life without me up until now, so you don't see me the same way as you used to. You might be the same Clear deep inside, but you're a new Clear, too. I want to get to know him better."

“I see what you mean. I want to get to know this Aoba, too, because he's different. He has his own unique life experiences,” he explained, then added, “And he fell in love with me without me stabbing myself in the head.”

Clear had a point. It felt more pure, somehow, that he did fall in love with Clear again despite things being normal and much, much, much, much, _ much _ less dramatic. He knew that he really loved Clear; not out of pity, not out of perceived obligation, not because Clear loved him too much not to reciprocate it, not because he thought he needed to choose him after all they had been through. He really wanted to be with him; he always had. It was nice to get such a powerful confirmation.

Clear spoke again, drawing Aoba’s attention. "I apologize for bringing up the past, again, but I was meaning to ask you about Ren-san. Have you met him?"

Ren…?

Aoba's stomach dropped at the mention of Ren's name. He had forgotten... He had forgotten about Ren. All those memories of his past life, all the times that had come flooding back into his mind -- Ren had been in all of them. Ren had always been there for him, supporting Aoba when he needed him most. And Aoba had forgotten about him.

"N-No," Aoba whispered, voice hollow. He felt gutted. "I haven't seen Ren."

"Oh… I'm sorry." Clear looked at him with pity and obvious regret at having brought it up. 

"It's alright," Aoba choked out. He still felt like he couldn't breathe.

"You could still meet him," Clear said, offering some reprieve.

Aoba shook his head. "I don't think so… I don't know why, but… I don't think so." He stared, eyes unfocused, at the grass. He had lived his whole life so far without Ren. He hadn't even noticed. He felt grimy, like he needed to take a shower. How could he have forgotten about his beloved companion?

A finger came under his chin, tilting his face up. Clear was smiling sympathetically at him.

"It's okay, Aoba. It'll be okay." He paused. "You know, I hadn't remembered my grandfather, either. I never met him, and he has already passed away. I'll never know if he was the same person. He may not have been; I'll never know for sure. But that's okay."

"Yeah, I guess we're in the same boat." He chuckled, and the sound was wet; he hadn't realized he was crying. "At least we're in this together, right?"

"Yes. You'll always have me." Clear kissed him softly on the forehead.

Aoba sniffed. "You know, even though it hurts… I'm glad I remember you. I’m glad you didn’t let me give up on this.”

Clear smiled. "Me, too. Now that I have these memories, I couldn’t imagine my life without you.”

Having lunch with Clear like they always did while discussing things from their collective past was surreal, but it felt natural, now. He had never felt more comfortable in his life. It felt right to be with Clear, now, especially since he remembered the entirety of their history. It was a peaceful refuge after the chaos of figuring things out.

The weeks passed like that, with Aoba enjoying technically-non-marital bliss with Clear, getting used to the new quirks in his personality that he had developed on his own. The school year was coming to a close, and Clear suggested that he cook for Aoba’s family to celebrate. Clear wanted his mother to be there, too — he wanted their families to meet — so he suggested having them over to his house. Aoba suggested, instead, that Clear and his mother come to their house. He didn’t want to be ashamed of his home anymore, and now was as good a time as any to conquer his fear.

Clear helped him clean beforehand, which was very sweet of him. It reminded Aoba of how diligently he used to do chores in Tae’s home; he had always been so worried about pulling his own weight. Even now, Tae was chiding Clear for vacuuming the carpets in the wrong direction. It almost made Aoba choke up... Almost. He managed to keep himself composed. Once Tae stopped scolding him and left, though, Aoba noticed Clear wiping a tear from his eye.

“What’s wrong?” Aoba asked, concerned. “Was she really that mean?”

“No,” Clear said, voice tight with emotion. “I just hadn’t realized how much I missed her.”

Oh, right… Tae had died of old age, eventually, and Clear had spent several decades without her. At least Aoba had lived with her again, this time, so it wasn’t as big of a deal for him. Clear must have missed his typical antics with Tae; beneath it all, he knew she really loved him. Aoba was sure that was the case now, too.

Despite Clear claiming that he wanted to do it all by himself, Aoba volunteered to help him cook and refused to take “no” for an answer. Then Tae insisted on making her notorious donuts — Clear couldn’t argue with her on that; it had been a long, long time since he had eaten one. Sei wanted to help out, too, because he was the only one not in the kitchen, so the kitchen ended up full of people. Aoba could tell that Clear preferred it this way, with the entire Seragaki family (which, Aoba thought, included Clear) working together. Aoba had missed this; he was glad to have Sei here, now, too.

Clear’s mother arrived just as Clear was removing the last dish from the oven. Aoba was anxious for her to see his home, but Clear had given him the confidence he needed that his home was normal and presentable. His only fear, now, was that Clear’s mother would find Tae’s blunt maturity off-putting. As the group sat down to eat, though, Aoba was delighted to discover that the two women were getting along. Tae may have been a prickly pear, but Clear’s mother was so warm and friendly that she broke through Tae’s exterior with ease.

“I’m so glad that these boys gave us the opportunity to meet!” Crystal said, beaming at Tae. “I couldn’t imagine a better family for my son to marry into.”

Clear turned pink all the way down to his collar. “M-Mom! That’s embarrassing,” he whined.

“I don’t mind if you get married,” Tae said gruffly. “You’re old enough to make that decision.”

Aoba looked over at Clear. Clear turned to meet his eyes, obviously unsure how to respond.

“Maybe someday,” Aoba said, smiling at him. “We’re not in a rush.”

Clear smiled back at him warmly. “Yes. We have lots of time.”

Later that evening, after Tae had invited Crystal to accompany her to bingo with the neighborhood old ladies, Aoba snuggled up to Clear on his bed. It was nice to be alone with him after the stress of having their families meet. It was promising that their mother figures had gotten along well enough to want to continue spending time together; Aoba was eagerly anticipating the future, but he didn’t want to steamroll ahead, either. He was content to savour the opportunity to be with Clear, again, without the existential crises that had always loomed over their heads before.

After laying in silence for a while, enjoying each other’s company, Clear started to chuckle. Aoba asked him what was so funny.

"I just realized, Aoba," Clear said, "You were the one who crashed into _ me _this time."

Aoba remembered when he had truly met Clear for the first time, when he fell from the roof of Heibon and damn near knocked Aoba into the pavement. His gas-masked face had been quite a shock, back then, but Aoba remembered it fondly now. Clear had quickly proved to Aoba that he was more than just a klutzy goofball; he was strong, and brave, and reliable, and selfless. He was so much more than he had appeared to be. Aoba was so, so, so grateful that he had been given the chance to enter Platinum Jail with him and take down Toue together. There was no one else he would have rather had that experience with.

But, this time, Aoba had been the klutzy fool who had tripped over his own feet and tumbled down the hill towards Clear. It was embarrassing to recall, but he supposed he was also grateful that he had crashed into Clear’s life like that. There was no better way to make himself known, he supposed.

“I’m glad I did,” Aoba said, pressing a soft kiss to Clear’s cheek. “I’m glad I met you again.”

“Me, too,” Clear murmured, warm and full of love. “And I’m glad your voice was still as clear as the day I met you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this fic as kind of like...closure for myself after writing so much kuriao. i wanted to write a nice story that isn’t just an excuse to write smut for once lol... this was really just like a therapeutic thing for me to say goodbye to a pairing that’s meant so much to me for the past like...5 years. FIVE YEARS god it’s been a long time LOL i’m old as shit!!! but fr this fandom really meant a lot to me and i’m glad to be giving it this send-off.
> 
> anyway, thank you all so much for reading this, and for reading my fics in the past if you have. i have really grown as a writer since my cringe introduction to fanfiction writing in 2014, and i think my fics really show that progression!! i’m embarrassed by my old fics but i will always leave them up because i still see people leaving kudos on them to this day... i won’t take that away from the horny freaks reading my old weird smut. i love you all.
> 
> i’m also writing a kawoshin reincarnation fic rn if anyone’s interested in checking that out 👉👈 but with that i will say goodbye. thanks again for taking an interest in my works :)


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